The Vergil Chronicles
by Gilver
Summary: The story of Vergil's life, narrated by Vergil himself. 1st draft, unfinished.
1. Introduction

Introduction:

Each man in this world holds the key to his own destiny. Whether or not that man will choose to fulfill it is up to him. A man may go his whole life without realizing his true potential. Likewise, a man may strive for greatness and power, perhaps attaining it, but the strain of such a feat would take an unimaginable toll, and ultimately he would fail. Between these extremes lies the being that is destined for greatness and power, and reaches out to grasp it. No mere man can be destined for and achieve that kind of power. I am speaking of the Dark Knight, Sparda. The Dark Knight himself was a demon, not a man. His vast powers were beyond that of any mortal, or any devil. His strength defeated the Demon Emperor, Mundus. His might repelled all that stood in his way. No one stood a chance. After all of his enemies were defeated, he lived quietly in the human world. He even met and married and human woman. He sired twin sons…Both with great powers….

And greater destinies…

How do I know this?

I am the Son of the Legendary Sparda.

My name is Vergil, the firstborn of his twin children. Here I shall share with you the story of the sons of Sparda. I shall tell you the tale of my beginning and my end.


	2. The Sons of Sparda

I'll begin with the first thing I can remember, and that was when I gazed upon my father's face. I admired him as only a child could. My brother and I, barely able to walk, curled up in our mother's loving embrace as our father looked upon us. I shall never forget his face. While my brother buried his face into my mother's neck, I studied the determined, yet loving face of my father.

As I grew, so did my brother. It was so strange to see him; it was like looking into a mirror. We spent practically all of our time together. What one did, the other would soon follow, even to the point of stupidity. My brother, naturally reckless, touched a hot iron. He seemed somewhat interested by the slight burning sensation on his fingertips. He kept on touching it. I was so intrigued that I too began to touch it. The pain wasn't much, but it was still there for us who were barely four years old. Our mother was shocked to see what we had been doing and our lack of a painful reaction caught her off guard. Our father just laughed.

Sparda would watch us play from time to time. On the warm days of spring, my brother and I started to venture out and tumble around the grassy hills that surrounded our house. Day after day, week after week, month after month we would play, coming inside only to eat and sleep. The activity would continue even into winter. However, one spring morning, our father gave us something. Two wooden practice swords. Looking back, I think he was actually afraid we might hurt ourselves. He had no idea about what we were capable of, so he decided to give us, little boys of only 6 years, wooden swords to practice with. We immediately found our new playtime activity. Each day, from morning to night we would spar. We would swing, we would block, we would stab and parry. Day after day, one could hear the sounds of the fighting coming from those grassy hills. And our father watched. He showed no signs of emotion, he simply watched. Neither of us was ever hurt enough for him to worry, though. Our mother came out and stood with him sometimes. Sparda stood tall and proud next to our mother as they watched me and my brother.

One morning, the day before our birthday, my brother and I were sparring as usual. Our father stood watching us, as usual. But something unusual happened. For the first time, my brother and I put all of our strength into on blow. And as our staves collided, the loud crack of wood could be heard for miles. We had broken them, our tools of war and recreation. We looked helplessly at our father, fearing some sort of retribution. All his did was smile ever so briefly and walk away.

With nothing else to do, my brother and I took to exploring our house. The house was nothing particularly special. Our father seemed to dislike grand halls and spacious rooms, for whatever reason. The house was simple, two stories and two bedrooms. The only places my brother and I spent much time in were the dining room and our own bedroom. The only other place was in our living room, with its fireplace and gleaming wooden floors. Several paintings hung on the walls. They seemed far grander that the rest of the room. A large portrait of our father stood out among them. We had over heard him once complaining to our mother that he felt it portrayed him as arrogant to have such a thing hanging in such plain sight. Our mother argued that she loved the painting and could not bear to have it out of sight. Our father reluctantly obeyed her wishes.

My brother and I started our exploration, skipping the familiar rooms and going right for the attic. The dusty attic was filled with aged keepsakes and tarnished treasures. The significance and age of these items were lost upon me and my brother. We moved on to our parent's bedroom. The room wasn't much bigger than our own, but it had beautiful antique furniture. My brother scanned the walls, soaking in his surroundings. My eyes caught sight of two pictures hanging on the wall. On was of our father, in a black-and-white photo leaning against a brick wall. He looked out with tired-looking eyes, the eyes of a man that had seen too much and was loved so little. My brother caught more than I did.

"Whoa! Look at those!" He pointed to the two guns my father had, "Nice! Those must be Luce and Ombra!"

During the winter nights, we would snuggle up near the fireplace and listen to our father and mother reminisce. Their tales stuck in our minds like glue. Our father frequently spoke of Luce and Ombra, but until then I thought they were friend of his…But on the sides of the guns it read "Luce and Ombra". I was barely able to read it, but my brother was right.

The next picture was of our mother, dressed in red and smiling warmly. It hung next to the picture of our father like it was a reminder. A reminder that our mother took away all of the sad and lonely feelings our father had. We knew much about what our father has been through, but in the mind of a child, such things do not carry much significance. It must have felt like a miracle to our father. He found love after such a long life of fighting and blood. He found happiness after he fought his way through hordes of demons. His strength and will drove him to be the most powerful being in both the human and demonic realms, _and_ he found love. His life was complete. I felt a huge swell of pride at that moment. My father had done so much and all so we could live as we do and feel loved. My brother and I stood staring at our mother's portrait, I do not know what he was thinking at the moment, but I could tell my brother was deep in thought. His blue eyes gazed upon our mother's image, unblinking and still. We were both enthralled and unaware of our mother's presence in the room.

"Boys?" she asked in her gentle voice, "Would you like something to eat?"

We both nodded, without looking away from the picture. She came up behind us and stood, looking at the photos with us. She soon sat down on the bed, and we sat down next to her. My brother was the first to look up at her.

"I love you, mommy" he said. Our mother smiled and kissed him on the cheek.

"I love you, too Dante" she responded. I was eager to receive the same attention from her as my brother did

"What about me, mommy?" I asked, "Do you love me, too?"

She looked into my eyes and held my head I her hands. She combed my hair back with her fingers and embraced me.

"Of course I do, Vergil" She replied, "You know I do."

My brother and I set our heads down on her shoulders, reveling in the peace and love of the moment.

The following morning, our father woke us up.

"Boys" He said in his strong voice, "Happy birthday."

We both sat up in our respective beds and rubbed our eyes. My brother, realizing what our father just said, smiled brightly and hopped out of bed.

"Get dressed and come outside," Our father continued, "I have something for you"

My brother rapidly changed his clothes and rushed down the stairs. Whatever we were to receive, I was certain it could stand waiting a few extra seconds. I got dressed and combed my hair back, like my mother had done the day before. I walked out of the room, put on my boots and continued to walk outside where my father and brother were waiting.

"C'mon, slow-poke!" My brother pleaded impatiently, "You're just doing this to make me wait, aren't you?"

"No…" I replied casually, "Sorry I took so long"

"Are we ready then?" Our father asked. We both nodded our heads and our father smiled "Good"

He turned around and picked up a bundle of cloth from the ground. He set the bundle on our picnic table and opened it up. My brother impatiently tried to see around our father, but to no avail. Not two seconds later, our father turned, holding a sword in his hands. The sword was curved in its dark sheathe. Its handle bone-white over navy blue, a dragon design decorated the end of the hilt.

"Vergil" Our father said, "Come here"

I quickly obeyed and approached him. He gently handed me the sword. It was painfully obvious that it was too big for me, but our father seemed to have faith in me.

"This," My father spoke as he handed me the blade, "is Yamato. It is nearly indestructible and it can cut through almost anything. It once belonged to me, and now I give it to you."

I examined the sword closely, taking in its every curve and edge. I unsheathed it partway and looked upon its gleaming and razor sharp blade.

"Thank you, father" I said as I snapped the blade back into it's sheathe which gave a resounding ring. Father smiled and turned back to the table. A moment later he beckoned to my brother.

"Dante" he said as he turned from the table, "This is Rebellion"

In our father's hands was an impossibly large sword. It was completely metal, and it had a skeleton for the base of the hilt. Either side of the sword had a skull and a ribcage. The cross-guards, though ineffectively angled, were placed at where the skeleton's arms would be.

I was shocked that our father would give Dante such a huge sword. Our strength was great for our age, but we were still young and such a blade would require that its owner be…taller. For any of you who are confused about that, I want you to imagine swinging a five-foot long sword while kneeling. The ground's close proximity frequently becomes a factor.

My brother was just as surprised. He began to approach our father hesitantly.

"How can I use this, dad?" My brother asked, "It's huge!"

"Don't worry, Dante." Our father said, "This is a special sword, and it's just for you."

At that, he handed my brother the immense blade, but something happened. As my brother grasped its hilt, the sword began to shrink. Or perhaps it was the world around it that began to grow…Either way; the sword was transformed from its previous size. It was still very large for a child, but nowhere near as large as before.

"These blades are now your friends and allies," Sparda explained, "I want you to keep them with you at all times."

My brother and I nodded in understanding. My blade, Yamato, already felt like a part of me. I could feel it tingling in my hands, as if it was alive.

"They are now a part of you, of your very souls." Our father explained, "Do you understand the importance of this?"

"Yes" we both replied.

"Good, now if you'll excuse me" Our father said, "I'll be going inside" He turned to walk away, but stopped suddenly as if something just occurred to him. He turned to face us with a smile on his face. "Just don't hurt yourselves" He laughed. Fully aware that there was every reason to be serious, we just laugh along with him.

Our father went inside the house and my brother began to swing his sword around wildly in excitement. I took the opportunity to completely unsheathe Yamato. The blade wasn't at all heavy, and it wasn't very hard to grip. While my brother was playing with Rebellion, I decided to test out Yamato's effectiveness. I walked off to find some trees. My brother must have realized he was playing by himself, because he quickly came after me.

"Aren't these sweet!" My brother exclaimed as we walked towards a small grove a half-mile away. "Now we won't have to worry about breaking them!"

"Yes" I answered, "Now all we have to worry about is making sure we don't kill each other!"

"We can handle it!" My brother was always positive, nothing ever got him down. Most of the time he would just get impatient, rather than sad or angry. He looked around in confusion. "Where are we going?"

"We're taking our new toys out for a test run," I answered, "I've got to see if what dad said is true."

"Of course it is! Dad never lies!"

"I never said he did! He _did_ say it could cut through _almost_ anything. I want to see how far that goes."

So a moment later we arrived at an old grove that lay in the middle of a small valley. I didn't want to try too much at once, so I decided to try Yamato out on one of the smaller trees, its trunk was only about a foot in diameter.

"Stand back" I warned my brother, "Mom would hate it if I cut off one of your arms"

"Ha ha" he replied sarcastically as he stepped back a ways. I readied myself, drawing Yamato and tossing it's sheathe off to the side. I swung as hard as I could, and the blade's path caught the light of the sun. In a flashing arc, Yamato's razor sharp edge passed through the tree's thin trunk…but nothing happened.

My brother began to laugh uncontrollably. He found it terribly funny. However, during his fit of laughter, I heard something else: The creaking of the tree. I smiled as I walked around the tree until it was standing between me and my brother. It wasn't all that tall, but it would be perfect for what my mischievous brain hatched.

"Hey bro," I called out to him. He slowly stopped laughing as he witnessed the odd way the tree was swaying. "Catch!" I simply tapped the tree with my finger. The perfectly balanced tree was suddenly thrown off balance and was sent crashing towards the earth…and my brother. He yelled in surprise and dove out of the way, barely escaping the leafy branches that pursued him.

It was my turn to laugh. And laugh I did. My brother pouted for a moment, then realized how funny it really was. He began to laugh as well.

"That was really cool, bro!" He said between chuckles, "Looks like you hit the jackpot with that one!"

"You still haven't tried yours yet," I pointed out; I looked around for a tree similar to the one I had cut. My brother had something else in mind. He found the largest tree in the area and called me over to it. The tree must have been eighty feet high, with a trunk nearly two and a half feet in diameter.

"No way!" I exclaimed, "You'll never cut through that!"

"Oh yeah?" He asked, "What makes you think I can't?"

"We don't even know what your sword does! It could only be useful for cutting bread for all we know!"

"I have to try," He reasoned, "Otherwise looking back on this moment won't be as fun"

"Ok," I gave up, "Just make sure you get out of the way when it comes down."

"I knew you believed in me!" He exclaimed as he readied himself. He awkwardly held the blade above his head with both hands. "Here goes nothing!"

He swung.

The blade was heavier than mine, so it was not moving as fast, but my brother put a lot of strength behind that blow. Unfortunately, the stroke stopped short about half-way through the tree. The tree groaned as its weight shifted around the sword that was now stuck in the middle of its trunk. My brother was disappointed.

"Aw man!" He whined, "What am I going to do now?!"

"Hey, you cut through more than I did!" I pointed out to cheer him up. He smirked as he tried to pull out his sword.

"Yeah, I guess I did!" He was smiling brightly now, "You would have done just as well, bro"

He kept on tugging at his blade, but it wouldn't come loose. We tried pulling it out together, but it was lodged in there under nearly the entire weight of the tree.

"Its no use, Dante" I said, exhausted for the effort. "We better go get father."

"No!" He grunted as he tried to pull it out again. "I've got to do this! I don't want dad to be upset with me!"

For ten-minutes more he tried to pull it out, then he started to get angry.

"Come on!" He yelled, "You stupid, stupid, stupid sword!"

Finally, as he insulted his new sword, its blade began to light up. I saw the angry red glow of Rebellion, but my brother didn't. He was so frustrated that he stopped trying to pull it out and focused all of his frustration on pushing the blade further along its intended path. At that, there was a great surge of force added to my brother's effort. A flash of red light burst forth from the trapped sword, and I could feel the energy given off through the blade. Suddenly, the blade cut through the rest of the tree and that surge of force and that source of light collided with the ground, sending dirt and dust everywhere. The tree groaned, louder this time and I could hear the loud rustling of the leaves as it fell to the ground. With an earth-shaking thud, the tree struck the ground.

As the dust cleared, I began to see what had happened. The tree was now completely toppled over, and there were broken branches everywhere. But that is not what surprised me. The trunk was cut and scorched at a forty-five degree angle. Even more surprising was the ground next to it. There was a large gash in the earth. That is the only way I can really describe it. It's as if a wave of energy emanated from Rebellion and cut through the rest of the tree _and_ the ground.

I turned to look at my brother, who wore a shocked expression. He looked back at me, and we both smiled.

"Awesome!" We both exclaimed simultaneously. "Jackpot!" We high-fived each other and stared at the destruction we had wrought.

"Do you think dad will be angry we did that?" My brother asked as we walked back towards the house.

"Nah," I replied, "We didn't hurt ourselves, and that's all he told us not to do."

"Ok, whatever you say."

We had cut down two trees, and caused quite a mess in the old grove. Not bad for a couple of seven year olds. We made it back into the house, and our mother was tidying up the kitchen.

"So, what were you boys up to?" She asked without looking to see if we were there. My brother and I exchanged glances.

"Nothing" We both answered. She smiled knowingly as she fetched the broom from the closet. The two of us sat down, grateful for a moment of silence after what had occurred in the grove. A few moments later, our mother put the broom away and opened the oven.

"I've got something for you two!" She said as she pulled two baking pans out of the oven. She set them both down on the table, with a towel underneath them so the table would not get burned.

"Vergil…Dante…Happy birthday!" She said as she set them down. They were two cakes, one chocolate and one vanilla. I knew my brother better than anyone else, so I knew what I'd have to do.

"I want chocolate!" I shot in before he could open his mouth.

"No, I want chocolate!" He argued. We argued over it until our mother intervened.

"Boys!" She said in a calm, but firm voice. "Why don't you just have half of each?"

"Alright!" We both said as we gave each other high fives in excitement. "Jackpot!"

"Good," Our mother said, "Now you can help me put on the frosting in just a moment, but first I want to give you something."

She left the room for a moment, and then came back with two small boxes. She set one down in front of each of us and sat down at the other end of the table, waiting expectantly.

"Go on, open them." She encouraged us. We both picked up our respective boxes and undid the colored ribbon that kept the lid in place. We opened the boxes and found an amulet inside each one.

"Wow" We both said in awe. "What are they?"

"They're amulets, one for each of you. I even had them engraved."

I checked the back of mine, and just as she had said there was an engraving. It read "Vergil and Dante"

"Do you know what these are?"

"No" we both said.

"Well, they were gifts from your father. They are actually two halves of one amulet. Each of you has one half of a whole, so that even when you are apart, you are always together."

"Wow" My brother said, "Thank you, Mommy!"

"Yes, thank you mother!" I followed. My amulet was much like my brother's, with its oval shaped reddish jewel. The only difference between them was that the metal surrounding the jewel in my amulet was gold, and my brother's was silver, with chains to match.

"Now you two come and help me with the frosting" Our mother requested.

My brother and I immediately took to wearing our amulets and carrying our swords. Dante even took to carving a pair of wooden pistols that he carried with him as well. He would absent mindedly twirl them on his fingers as we talked.

"Must you do that?" I asked him one day as we sat down to rest. The sun was high in the sky, and there was no breeze. After spending hours fighting, the heat began to cause us some discomfort.

"Do what?" My brother responded defensively. "One day I'm going to get a real pair of these things, just like Dad had!"

"What, so you can blast away at something from a safe distance?"

"Safe distance? C'mon, you've heard dad's stories! There are a lot of things out there that can shoot something from a distance. You gotta learn to match that!"

"Then learn to shoot something yourself! You don't need guns for that."

"Its not just that, these things look sweet, too!"

"If you say so…"

That was one of the few things we disagreed on as children. I simply thought that it was better for someone to prove himself through skill with a blade, not skill with a firearm.

"Alright then," He said as he stood up, brandishing Rebellion. "Let's go again! I almost got you that last time!"


	3. Torn Twins

The weeks that followed grew darker and darker. Our father stopped watching us practice and sometimes we saw him looking extremely upset, almost melancholy. He spent hours talking with our mother. Even my brother could sense something was wrong. Father, hardly spoke to us. He would sit in his chair, staring into the portrait of our mother.

One morning we woke up…and he was gone. We found our mother, she wouldn't speak at all. It was as if a wave of despair engulfed our entire lives. We didn't know why he left, but we already missed our father, and we could tell our mother did, too. Weeks past, and he still did not return.

"Mommy?" My brother asked one day. "Where's dad?"

Mother began to cry. I had never seen her so sad. My brother led her to the rocking chair that stood in the corner of our living room. He sat next to her and stroked her hair. She clung to him tightly, her blue eyes full of tears.

"It's OK, mommy" My brother assured her, "You'll be OK."

Our mother stopped crying and looked up at him, into his innocent eyes. She kissed him on his forehead and hugged him again.

It was the first time I had felt jealous of the attention my brother received. With father gone, there was no one to watch us as I tested myself against my brother. With father gone, there was no one for me to work to impress. No one except my mother, who already had Dante to care for her.

It appeared our mother did not know what happened to our father, but something told me she felt it in her heart. She felt that he would never return. That changed me, I began to push myself harder each time I fought my brother. I made sure I was there for my mother as often as Dante was for her. I combed my hair back every morning, and I sat by her side every night. Perhaps I thought if I could be more like my father, I could make my mother proud.

I explored Yamato's capabilities every chance I got. If Dante's Rebellion could cut down a tree like it did, then Yamato must have some secrets as well. I channeled all of my energy into attempts at unlocking those secrets.

"You know," My brother teased, "if you keep grunting like that, you're going to ruin your underwear."

"Thanks for sharing" I wasn't in the mood for his teasing. But he was right, I was trying too hard and I wasn't getting anywhere. So I shook off my frustration and went back to my target.

I intended to unleash the same power Rebellion had proven to have. I tried forcing all of my anger and rage into Yamato in an effort to copy that same blast of energy my brother had unleashed with his blade. My target was a lone tree on a nearby hilltop. I wanted to cut it in half…or blow it to bits. However, this time I tried something new. I calmed myself and cleared my mind. I tried to encourage the blade, and simply will it to strike.

And it did.

As I swiped away at the air, a thin arc of energy shot out at my target. It wasn't the same thing I had seen Rebellion do. It was thin and light blue in color. It whistled as it closed in on its target. Even from the bottom of the hill, I could hear the distinctive sound of the attack connecting with the tree. Smiling, I slowly sheathed Yamato with a resounding metallic ring. Strangely enough, as the sound of that echoed through the hills, I heard another noise, the tree crashing to the ground.

"Whoa!" My brother yelled in excitement, "How'd you do that!" He got up from his spot on the grass and ran over to me.

"I don't know…" I told him, "I just calmly willed it to do something, and it did."

"Sweet!" He was more excited than I was, my brother had always been easily amused. "but how'd you knock down that tree?"

"Beats me."

As intelligent as I was, I didn't understand it at the moment. Upon further examining it when I was older, however, I discovered that the frequency of the sound waves that are emitted from the ringing noise that comes with sheathing the blade moves through the air quickly. Whatever object or person that is cut will feel the more…devastating effects after they are moved by those sound waves. Of course it can be controlled, and there are exceptions, but I won't get into that just yet.

"That was awesome!" My brother was still excited. We both ran over to the tree and examined its remains. We found that the tree was cut so cleanly, that the wood felt smooth, like it had been sanded down.

The two years that followed were rather uneventful. My brother and I continued to spar with each other during the day, spend time with our mother in the evening, and then go to bed. It was a happy time for me, and I felt nearly complete. The loss of my father left a void in my soul that begged to be filled, but the rest of me felt whole and content.

Then, one autumn evening…something happened.

The hills around our house were quiet. Fog rolled into those hills in that twilight hour. Our mother sat in her rocking chair, fiddling with a needle and thread in an attempt to fix one of Dante's favorite shirts. My brother and I lie near the lit fireplace reading a book.

It was in that quiet evening that I felt the happiest. I felt such peace. I knew that no matter what, things would always be this way.

A shrill scream echoed through the hills, and the front door burst open. My mother stood up in shock.

"Run!" She screamed. "Get away!"

The look on her face was pure terror. Even to this day I cannot forget her expression. Darkness swelled around the doorway, and some unseen evil approached. I was filled with such blind rage. Who would dare threaten my mother? Whoever and whatever it was, I wasn't going to let it ruin my family.

I reached for the closest weapon on hand: Rebellion, my brother's sword. I charged at the mysterious foe and beat back the palpable darkness that invaded out home. Dante decided to listen to my mother, he ran into our room and hid under the bed. Our attacker was too focused on me to notice. The demon sent out a wave of force that pushed me back. My mother was knocked back into the kitchen by the invisible blow, and I was pushed into my bedroom with Rebellion still in hand.

With all my strength, I channeled my rage into Rebellion and to my surprise it responded. The large blade glowed brightly, though its glow was somehow different that before. With each strike I could feel the unseen attacker shying away. I felt envigorated and enraged at the same time. I was winning!

I prepared myself for one last blow, but as I readied the sword, my knees fell from beneath me. I had channeled so much of my strength into Rebellion, I could no longer stand. I dropped to my knees in exhaustion. The demonic attacker too this at his advantage and struck me down.

And I lost consciousness…

* * * *

I awoke to the sound of my brother's voice.

"Mommy!" He cried desperately, "Mommy!?!"

In his arms was our mother. Her white dress was soaked with crimson blood. Her eyes were red from the pain, and he breathing was shallow. I slowly got to my feet, my silver-white hair was matted with blood. My vision began to blur as I tried to steady my feet. With my hand, I wiped the blood off of my already healed face.

"Go, Dante," My mother said weakly, "Take your brother and go."

"I won't leave you, mommy!" My brother cried. "I won't!"

She reached her hand up to his face and stroked his face lovingly.

"I love you, Dante…" her breathing began to slow. "I love you, V-…"

That was all she could say. Her breathing stopped, and she stared up at the ceiling with unmoving eyes.

"Mommy!" my brother screamed, "MOMMY?!?"

And he began to sob. It took me a moment to fully understand what I just saw.

"No" Was all I could say.

My brother stopped crying and turned to look at me. I hobbled over to him, a single tear rolling down my cheeks. I knelt down next to my mother's dead body and I broke into tears. My brother embraced me and we sat there sobbing.

As I was crying I thought of how we were alone now. No one was left to take care of us.

_What do we do now?_ I thought, _What do we do?_

"This is all my fault." I said between sobs.

"What?" My brother asked after stopped crying. "No…You did your best."

"But that wasn't enough!" I yelled in anger and punched my fist through our bedroom wall. Weakened by the effort of that blow, my legs gave out again. I leaned against the wall for support.

"There was nothing you could do!" My brother exclaimed, "Not with father gone! HE should have been here! HE should have stopped them!"

"But he's NOT here!" I yelled back, "Father is dead!"

My brother stared at me, his eyes welling up with fresh tears.

"And so is mother," I continued. "All because of me!"

A thought came to me, struck me like lightning.

_Kill them_

_Kill them all_

Without thinking any further, I went to the closet and got Yamato. I left the bedroom and headed for the front door, which still hung open.

"Where are you going?" Dante asked.

"I must kill them!" I said as I turned to face my brother. "All of them! For what they did!"

"No! You're hurt!"

My brother was going to try to stop me, I could feel it. I turned towards the door and closed my eyes, calming myself. I took a deep breath and opened them, staring coldly at the open door.

"I am leaving"

Dante shrank back visibly, troubled by my matter-of-fact tone of voice. He stepped in front of me.

"No," He said firmly, "You aren't."

"Get out of my way!" I pushed him aside with strength that surprised even me. Dante was knocked into the living room, and crashed into an end-table. Without even looking back, I stepped outside and began to walk down the gravel road in front of our house.

The fog impaired my ability to see more than a few feet in front of me. It wasn't quite dark yet, so at least I was able to see where I was going.

"Vergil!"

I could hear my brother calling out to me. But I heard something else as well. A few feet behind me, I could hear the crunching of gravel.

Something was following me.

It wasn't my brother, I could still hear him calling out to me. I was in no condition to fight, so I did the only thing I could. I ran.

I rushed into a nearby tree-line and into the woods. Running as fast as I could, I dodged trees left and right in hopes of evading my pursuers. I ran so far that I didn't even recognize where I was anymore. I stopped as I reached a strange and deathly quiet place...A graveyard.

My legs felt weak, so I walked over to a crumbled headstone and sat down, uncaring of the corpses buried beneath me. I caught my breath and listened for my pursuers.

_Once I rest long enough,_ I thought coldly, _I am going to kill them_

I set Yamato down on the ground, and buried my face in my hands. It was all too much for me. My parents were dead, and I abandoned my brother. My brother…Who ran and hid instead of staying to fight….My brother…Who would rather stay there and cry over our mother's dead body than avenge her death!

If Dante would have fought with me, we would have protected our mother! She would be alive now if he wasn't such a coward!

_No…_I stopped myself, _I don't need him! I could have beaten it myself! I just needed to be a little stronger…_

Suddenly, the ground beneath my feet rumbled. Grave markers fell over in the rolling mass of dirt. From the ground burst forth the bodies that were buried there. Their flesh had rotted until there was nothing but bone. The animated skeletons reached towards me, grabbing at me with their sickening and decaying hands. I reached for Yamato, but the corpses pulled me off my feet to the ground. The grabbed at me, choked me and scratched me with their bare fingers. One managed to escape fully from the ground that held it. It walked on unsteady legs, legs that have not walked in perhaps centuries. It walked to Yamato and picked it up, unsheathing it. And I understood: They wanted to make sure I was dead. They wanted to kill me in as many ways as possible. Strangle me, stab me and who knows what else.

The skeleton approached me as I struggled to get free. More of the undead creatures pulled themselves from the ground. Most were armed with some sort of weapon. They were dead warriors perhaps, buried with the only thing they could call a friend. The skeleton armed with Yamato drew closer. He reversed the sword and aimed it at my chest. The others followed, raising their spears and rusted swords above their heads.

They struck.

Each blade pierced my body as if it was wet paper. Yamato itself pierced my heart.

Each breath I took was painful. I could feel myself fading away.

But as the darkness closed in around me, I felt it.

Yamato pulsated from within me. I could see a light reaching out to me from the darkness. The light surrounded me until I could feel it awaken inside my own self. It filled me until I felt as if I was going to burst.

Suddenly, I was awake. And the light emanated from me, dispelling the darkness. The shock-wave sent my attackers flying. They slammed to the ground, their bones broken into a thousand pieces.

I stood there amongst the shattered bones and cracked skulls. The weapons that had pierced my body were gone, incinerated into dust and ashes. The aged headstones lay in ruins at my feet. The air around me crackled with life. Yamato itself was in my hand and it hummed with what I can only describe as joy.

I looked down at my hands and my body. I didn't recognize them.

My hands were replaced with claws.

My clothes appeared…alive…As if they were suddenly a part of me.

Yamato felt as if it was part of me. I could feel it, as if it was an extension of my body.

Its sheath was also a part of me, hanging from my left arm. It was truly an odd sensation to be one with my possessions.

I felt strong. I felt invincible…for a moment.

My knees buckled from beneath me and I could feel the power slipping away.

I collapsed into the earth and was covered in darkness.


	4. A New Life

Cold air swept around me as I awoke the next morning. I rose to my feet and examined my surroundings in the daylight. The graveyard was a wreck. Tall trees surrounded me, and the brilliant yellow sun shined through them to warm me. For just a moment, I felt great. Then I remembered what happened to my mother. Cold reality slapped me in the face. I fell to the ground, weeping.

She was gone…Forever. What could I do? I could see her face again, looking out towards my brother. I could hear her voice, telling him that she loved him. Yet _he_ was the one who abandoned her! _He_ was the one that ran away like a coward! Mother didn't want _us_ to be hurt, we should have acted just as selflessly. But instead Dante hid under his bed. The anger I had felt the last night came back to me, and my hands started to shake. I finally reached my limit and took my anger out on the nearest object. The stone mausoleum next to me was already collapsed into the earth. I slammed my fist into it, and the entire structure came down in a cascade of crumbling debris. I stepped back in surprise, shocked at just how easy that was. I remembered again what had happened before. Something inside me was unleashed. Some sleeping force, dormant for years, had finally awakened.

Eager to feel it the power yet again, I closed my eyes and looked deep within myself. I found it, the light that called out to me. All I would have to do is just answer the call, and it would trigger that transformation. Unable to resist, I reached out to that power and felt it once again flow through my body. As before, I changed. This new form felt stronger, and above all, invincible. I breathed in the power, and all the feelings that came with it. It felt good. No, it felt great! Excited, I ran off into the woods at full speed.

I found out that not only was this form stronger, but it was faster as well. I sped through the woods, with the trees whizzing past me. Dodging them left and right, I let out a yell of excitement. Unsheathing Yamato, I started cutting into the trees as I passed them. My blade was but a silver blur in the soft light of the forest. With one final slash, I stopped running. I slowly replaced Yamato in its scabbard. It gave a resounding ring as it clicked into place. At that, the line of trees behind me fell to the ground with a great thud.

I smiled to myself for a moment, but the smile slipped off my face as I felt that power slipping away. My body faded back to its normal state and the light within me vanished.

"What?" I asked myself, "What's going on!?!" I didn't understand why the power slipped away. I tried to reach back into that source of power in an attempt to re-establish my connection to it. But it was gone. Remembering the last night's events, I tried to figure it out. After my first transformation, I had lost the power and collapsed to the ground. I assumed it was because of the injuries I received and the resulting weakness. But perhaps there is something more to it than that…Either way, I figured it was just some form of exhaustion and it would require some rest before I was able to trigger the transformation again.

That afternoon, I began to train in my transformed state.

All of my normal techniques were significantly amplified. The attacks from Yamato were faster and more deadly, especially the long distance slashes. I trained for as long as I could, but each and every time the power went away, I was left again in my normal state. That did not stop me, and I just kept going until I could do it again. On and on the cycle went. I repeated it for hours.

However, that evening it dawned on me. I had no place to go. No family, no friends. Even worse, I had no food. I could have hunted for something, but I wouldn't have known how to cook anything I might catch. With my stomach rumbling, I set out, away from the woods. As the twilight sky faded into blackness, I happened upon a small town. I recall my father going to a nearby town for supplies every so often. I was lucky to have actually found it. The town appeared aged at first, with cobblestone streets and old fashioned buildings. But as I neared the city center, it began to look more modern. Street lights dotted the town square, and convenience store signs glowed with a dull yellow light.

The streets were empty, and no one could be seen inside any of the stores. The town was obviously very traditional, and obviously family-oriented. Each person relied on each other like family. No one needed anything at this hour, so they are all at home asleep or spending time with their actual families. No one was around to help me get food.

_Should I steal something? _I asked myself. I shook the thought away. Stealing is for scoundrels and thieves; People with no honor. I wouldn't steal even if it meant my starvation. _Then what do I do?_

My thoughts were interrupted as a strong hand grasped me by the shoulder and spun me around. Shocked, I tried to scramble away, but the strong hands held me tight.

"Don't worry, kid!" A man's voice said, "I'm not going to hurt you!"

I stopped squirming, and looked up to see a tall, dark-haired man. I suddenly felt foolish for actually being afraid of this human, even if it was just for a moment.

"I've never seen you around here before," The man said, "And its not wise for children to be out on their own at night."

"I'm not a child," I replied hotly as I drew Yamato. The man put his hands up in the air cautiously.

"Hey, hey, kid!" He backed up a step, "Watch where you point that thing!"

"Who are you?" I asked, "Why are you bothering me?"

"I just work at the general store over there," The man answered, "My name is Gabriel. I saw someone wandering around the streets and just came out to see who it was."

"Why?"

"Because we had a problem with a thief earlier today, I wanted to stay here all night just in case he came back."

"I am no thief"

"I see that…" Gabriel began shaking, "Can you put that away, it's kinda making me really nervous."

Glancing at the moonlit blade, I sighed and sheathed Yamato. Gabriel visibly relaxed.

"So if you're not here to steal stuff," Gabriel continued, "What are you doing here at this time of night?"

"I'm here for food and supplies." I answered plainly, "I don't have any money, but I'm willing to work for what I need." Gabriel crossed his arms and looked down at me thoughtfully.

"No, Most definitely not a thief." He pointed out, "I'll talk to my father and we'll see what we can do for you."

"Thank you very much"

"Do you have a place to stay?"

"No."

Gabriel smiled and turned around.

"Follow me then." He walked down the street and I hurried after him. We arrived at a suburban house, not more than 5 minutes walk away. The house was average size, and painted Yellow with white trim. Gabriel walked up to the door, and I stayed behind on the sidewalk. He turned to me and beckoned me to come closer. Nervous, I walked up to the door with him. I could hear the sounds of children playing.

"It seems my wife let the kids stay up late tonight." He smiled and opened the door, "Come on in. Make yourself at home."

_Home_. The word seemed hollow now that my own home was destroyed. We walked through the door and into the light of the house. Gabriel was older than I had initially realized. He must have been around 40. His wife walked into the room and stopped short upon seeing me. She wore a white apron over a salmon-colored dress. Her dark blonde hair flowed down past her shoulders with little imperfection.

"I expected everyone to be asleep," Gabriel said, not noticing the startled look his wife gave. His wife smiled and took off her apron.

"I wanted to make sure you got home alright." She said, "Who knows what a thief might do if you confront him…I-Is this…_Him?_" She gestured toward me, looking rather worried at the sight of my sword. Gabriel laughed.

"You think I'd bring him in here if he was?" He walked over to his wife and hugged her, "Don't worry dear, he is just in town for food and supplies. Unlike the thief, he wants to work for it."

"Oh," She said quietly, she looked at me, "I'm sorry."

"Its Ok," I responded, "Thank you for helping me."

"I will insist that he stay with us," Gabriel told me, "For now at least. I can always tell with people, and you seem like a nice person."

"I appreciate you saying so." I replied, "And I don't think I'll be staying long. I have much to do."

"Dear," Gabriel said as he turned to his wife, "Can you make some tea?"

"Sure" she responded as she turned towards the kitchen. Gabriel and I sat down in the living room on two comfortable chairs.

"Do you have any family around?" Gabriel asked me, "Is that who you're picking up supplies for?" I felt myself visibly wince. I looked down at the floor and held back the urge to cry. Gabriel noticed my reaction.

"Are…Are they alright?" He asked with serious concern. I looked up at him, trying quite hard to hide my real emotions.

"No, they are all dead." I knew quite well that Dante was probably still alive, but I didn't want to complicate things.

"I'm sorry…" Gabriel looked rather sad upon hearing that. I have never since met someone with that much genuine concern for a complete stranger. Gabriel's wife came in with the tea and sat down on the couch.

"Here you go, dear" she said as she handed me a cup, "By the way, do you have a name?"

Time slowed for a moment.

My mind raced. I couldn't tell them my name! If the demons know my name, then they might keep an eye out for it so they can find me again and kill me. Something had to be done.

Time sped back up, and I used the only name I could think of.

"Yes," I replied, "My name is Gilver."

"Pleased to meet you Gilver," she said pleasantly, "I am Rebecca"

The sounds of children talking came closer, and four children entered the room. Two boys and two girls stood before me, staring. The girls were obviously the oldest and the youngest, and the boys were probably in between, though I couldn't tell which was older.

"Whoa!" One of the boys said, "Nice hair!" The rest laughed.

"Now that's enough out of you, John!" Rebecca scolded, "Gilver here is our guest."

"Gilver?!" the other boy yelled, "What kind of name is _that_?" I took no offense since it was the only name I could come up with and did sound kind of silly…

"You, too, James!" The other boy shrank back behind the others. The older girl smiled at me.

"I think it's a cute name," she said. She was about my age, and all I could do was blush. The younger girl giggled, she couldn't have been more than 5.

"Gilver here has no place to stay here in town," Gabriel explained to his children, "So I offered to let him stay here for as long as he needs."

"We could use more smiles in the house," Rebecca said sweetly. Her husband nodded in agreement.

"Now, all of you off to bed," Rebecca commanded gracefully, "Gilver, honey. We've got an extra bed in the boys' room. They'll lend you some night-clothes, won't you boys?"

Sam and James nodded. They turned around and walked to their room.

"Go ahead, dear" Rebecca encouraged me, "Off to bed." I stood up, bowed and went into the hallway, stopping just out of sight. The two boys were already in their room, no doubt figuring out some prank. I felt odd for some reason. Like I couldn't trust this family. But I needed a bed, and food. This was the only way I get those without dishonoring myself. I entered the boy's room and was met with a white pillow heading straight for my face. Reacting instinctively, I leaned backwards and let the pillow pass over me. At the same time, Yamato came out of it's sheath and pressed against my attacker's throat. John stood there with his eye's bulging and I instantly realized this could compromise my welcome here. I sheathed Yamato and John relaxed.

:I-I'm sorry, Gilver," The boy stammered, "It was just a joke…"

"No," I said quietly, "I am sorry. I have just had a rough couple of days…I have been rather edgy." John was still a little shaken, and I figured that he would never underestimate another opponent in his life. John looked down at Yamato in its sheath.

"Is that yours?" He asked. I nodded in reply. "That's a big sword." James came out from under the bed. "What were you doing under there?"

"Hiding," James replied, "I knew that if you tried to hit Gilver with that pillow, something would happen. And I didn't want to be around when it did."

"Well, I'm glad you have my back," John said sarcastically as he rolled his eyes. "Anyways, you heard mom. Bed time."


	5. Fear

I couldn't sleep. The normal little sounds you'd hear in any regular house made me jump. The darkness hid the unfamiliar room in shadow; I expected something to jump out at me. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw my mother's bloodied face. I feared that even if I did fall asleep, I would have horrible nightmares. The borrowed nightclothes were a bit tight, and the bed was not what I was used to.

Frustrated, I quietly got up to take a look around the house. At least if I made sure it was safe, I would have one less thing to lose sleep over. As I entered the hallway, I could see a sliver of light coming from a room on the far end. I decided to take a closer look, and I found that it was Gabriel and Rebecca's room. They were talking quietly about something, and I stopped next to the door to listen.

"-safe?" I heard Rebecca finish a question, "That sword of his worries me."

"Of course," Gabriel replied, "He had me out there at his mercy and he let me live. He knows how to use that thing. Even if he didn't want to kill me, he could have easily gotten me out of the way so he could simply steal what he needed."

"Are you sure about him, though?"

"Yes," Gabriel yawned, "Without a doubt."

I could hear the sound of Rebecca sobbing. Gabriel calmly soothed her with a quiet whisper.

"He reminds me so much of him," Rebecca sniffed, "I'm glad he's not a scoundrel."

"I know," Gabriel said blankly, "Peter will always be here with us, and Gilver is indeed much like him. That's why I couldn't just leave him there."

"I know. You have always been a kind man."

"Thank you, dear," the light turned off, "Goodnight"

"Goodnight."

I snuck off back to my bed, and laid down.

_So…I remind them of their son…_

That very thought distracted me enough from my troubles. I soon felt the weight of the last couple of day press down on my body. My mind drifted off, and I fell into restful slumber.

*****

The next morning, Rebecca fixed everyone a big breakfast. After we finished, I thanked her and set off to the store with Gabriel.

"My father should already be at the store." Gabriel explained, "once we get there, I'm sure he'll find something for you to do." The town was bright and sunny, contrasting what I had seen the last night. The warm sun shined everywhere, and I felt invigorated by its bright rays. The general store was in an old-fashioned building, despite the more modern structures around it. Inside and behind the counter sat an old man. His hair and flowing beard were bone-white. His expression was that of a kindly old man, with a gentle voice. But when he spoke, a deep baritone filled the room.

"Son!" The old man boomed, "Good morning!" Gabriel's father embraced him, and turned to me. "You brought a guest!"

"Yes," Gabriel responded. "This is Gilver."

"Gilver, huh?" The old man winked at me. I gave a start at that, and I wondered if he knew it wasn't really my name. "What can I do for you?"

"I need some work, sir." I answered. I looked down towards the floorboards, still nervous that he may have seen through my alias.

"Well! It's a good thing, too!" The old man laughed, "We need an extra hand around here!"

"He's going to be staying with us for a while, dad." Gabriel said, to my surprise. "He'd like to repay us by working…Right?"

That last question was directed at me, and I nodded my head in agreement. Gabriel's father smiled, and extended his hand.

"You've got the job, son!" he smiled. I reached out my hand and shook his. "My name is Ian, but you can call me anything you like!...Just as long as it isn't "dude"…

"Why's that?" I asked seriously. Ian laughed again, his rumbling chuckle filling the room.

"Oh just some trouble maker called me that yesterday." He explained with great humor, "As he ran off with one of my smoked hams!"

So it was just the three of us all day. Occasionally there would be a customer, and perhaps a member of Gabriel's family. But it was very quiet and peaceful for most of the day. Gabriel would be taking inventory, and Ian would be telling me jokes and old stories. I'd do as much work as I could, in an attempt to be as useful to them as possible. But in the end, there just wasn't much to do. The store ran so smoothly, it seemed that all of us working together made the day that much easier. I grew slightly bored, and began playing with my hair.

"Gilver!" Ian called out, "Come here, son!"

I ran quickly over to Ian, who stood at the entrance to the shop. He looked up at the sky to the west.

"It looks like its going to be a clear, cold night tonight." He told me, "Why don't you go out back and split some firewood for us?"

"Sure!" I responded enthusiastically. The work indoors had been short of interesting, some exercise might help me out.

"Now, we wouldn't want you to dull that blade of yours," Ian said. He had never mentioned Yamato before, I had thought he didn't notice it. "There's an axe back there, too."

I hurried out to the back door and found it as he said. Half-pieces of wood sat in a pile next to the door. A rusty axe was propped up against the pile. I picked it up and held it out with one hand. It felt awkward to me, and particularly unbalanced. I replaced the axe, and drew Yamato instead. Much better.

I stabbed Yamato into the ground and went over to the wood pile. I picked up an armful of the firewood and threw it into the air. Careful not to cut the wood _too much_, I pulled Yamato out of the ground and slashed the blade through the air. Each piece of wood was split in half and landed in a messy pile on the ground.

"Well, well." Ian's strong voice said from the doorway. "It appears you have both a great sword, and great skill. And at so young of an age! Well done!"

Startled, I sheathed Yamato and put they newly split pieces of wood into a pile. I felt foolish for letting him know more about me.

"I recognize someone who is hiding from something." Ian continued, "You aren't in any danger here, son."

"I don't understand." I said innocently.

"But you do," Ian said flatly, "Don't worry at all. This town is one big family. And whoever you're running from will have to go through all of us before he gets to you."

I walked through the door and stopped as I passed him.

"That's what I am afraid of."


	6. First Kiss

For a long time I stayed there. I felt at home with those people. Every day I woke up and went to work with Ian and Gabriel. Working at that store I began to learn the names of all the townsfolk. Each day at lunch I would go outside the city and train for a half-hour before I ate my food. Some days we would take some time off and go fishing. In the evenings, I would talk to my new friends. My new family. Gabriel's family had become like my own. Though they could never really replace my real family, they certainly helped me get along. Gabriel's oldest daughter, Elizabeth, would sometimes spend hours talking to me. As the years rolled by, we both grew up. Our conversations began to fill up more with periods of awkward silence and nervous laughter.

One day in my 16th year, I went out of the city again to train. I approached the grassy field that I normally used and drew Yamato. Just as I was about to trigger my transformation, when I heard a twig snap somewhere behind me. I spun around with Yamato flashing in the sunlight. I bounded towards the source of the sound and prepared myself to strike out at my stalker. The sound had come from behind a tree, I slashed Yamato through the air and stopped the blade just a fraction of an inch short from Elizabeth's face.

Her blue eyes widened in shock, and she yelped involuntarily. Relieved that I didn't transform in front of her, I sheathed Yamato.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, "Sneaking up on me when I'm training isn't exactly safe."

"So how many people in my family have you threatened with that sword?" She smiled and brushed away a strand of her blonde hair. I laughed and walked back towards the field.

"So this is what you do when you're not at the store?" She asked me as we walked, "You practice slicing things up?"

"More or less."

"I see…Well…Why?" Her blue eyes narrowed. I sighed and kept walking. The sun shined strongly onto the glowing field, and Elizabeth's hair glowed along with it. "You can tell me…You should know that by now…"

I sat down on a fallen log and propped Yamato up next to me. Elizabeth sat at my other side and gazed out into the field.

"My father gave me that sword, Yamato is its name."

"You named your sword?" She asked, smiling mischievously.

"No," I answered seriously, "It has had the name long before I was even born.

"When I was young, my father died. This is all I have left of him."

"So you practice with it in remembrance of your father?"

"Not quite," I answered, "there's more to it than that. My own mother died not long after that. She was murdered." I could feel my voice breaking as I recalled the story. I told her the story as best I could. I did not tell her anything about demons, or hidden powers. I left out Dante as well.

"and so I set out to find her murderers…But ran into your father instead. You know the rest."

Elizabeth looked at me with sympathy and genuine sadness.

"I-I lost someone, too." She looked down at her feet, "My older brother, Peter, died a year or so before you met us. He was sick."

I had known about Peter for quite some time, but I didn't know how he died. It was quite saddening to learn that he had been taken by illness. There's nothing that can be done in some cases. All you can do is watch your loved one wither away.

Tears rolled down Elizabeth's cheeks, and her sapphire eyes began to redden.

"I'm sorry," I told her, "I shouldn't have brought this up."

"No, no, its OK…" She assured me. She leaned her head over on my shoulder and I put my arm around her. I held her tightly, and she looked up into my eyes. For just a moment we stared at each other. Unconsciously, I slowly leaned closer to her. She quickly moved forward and pressed her lips against mine.

My eyes widened in surprise for a moment, then closed as I immersed myself in the moment. I brushed aside her blonde hair, and held her face in my hands. She filled my senses entirely, I remember it clearly. She smelled of strawberries, and her lips were like velvet. I could feel my soul reaching out to her. The feelings that came with this moment, my first kiss, were strong enough to rival the feelings that came with my transformations.

Elizabeth drew herself back slowly, smiling at me. I hungered for more, but I stopped myself. As I looked at Elizabeth's face, I saw the bloodied face of my mother. I snapped out of the feelings I was having and stood up.

"what's wrong?" Elizabeth asked me as she stood up, "Did I-"

"No," I interrupted, "I just…I just need to sort some things out…"

I hugged her tightly, and kissed her again. She looked concerned as I turned to head back into town.


	7. Second Loss

_What's wrong with me?_ I asked myself. I kicked a rock that sat in the middle of the dirt road. The rock sailed over the surrounding treetops. I was frustrated that I ran off like that. I was upset that I allowed my mother's death to ruin such a happy moment. The image of Elizabeth's glowing face stuck itself in my mind. But again it was overshadowed by my mother's final moment.

"Damn it!" I yelled, hoping I was out of earshot. I had to get over it. My mother would rest in peace, knowing that her son lived a happy life. That thought calmed me down a little.

_Yes…She would want me to be happy…Not get myself killed by trying to avenge her death_

I exhaled in relief. My logic was comforting. I did not need to feel guilty about kissing Elizabeth.

That night after dinner, Elizabeth and I were sitting outside of the house on a bench in the garden. The sun had set, and the star had just begun to fill the sky. Crickets began their chirping song. I could hear rest of her family inside the house. Elizabeth sat there with her hand in mine, and I looked deep into her eyes.

"What?" she asked after I had been staring for a while, "Are you OK?"

I smiled at her, seeing nothing but her beautiful face.

"Yeah," I answered, "I've never been better."

"Really?" She asked, "Well that's good. This afternoon you made me think…" She trailed off.

"I'm sorry about that," I said with a hint of regret in my voice. "But don't worry. I know now what I am meant to do."

I leaned in to kiss her. The sound of dishes clattering on the floor came from the house. I stopped for a moment and listened.

No talking, no laughing. The crickets were silent. Something was wrong.

I got up immediately, and drew Yamato. Elizabeth stood straight up with her eyes wide.

"What's going on?" She asked fearfully. She looked around, panicking. I grabbed a hold of her arm and took her to the woodshed behind the house.

"Stay here!" I commanded her as I led her inside. The shed was sturdily built, and had a door to keep out the elements. I shut the door, and ran into the house.

The house was a wreck. I hadn't heard any of this! The shelves were collapsed onto the floor, and furniture was torn to shreds. A trail of blood stained the light-brown carpeting.

"No…" My mind raced, how could this have happened? I followed the blood trail to Gabriel's bedroom and found Rebecca lying dead on the bed. Her face was bloodstained, and her eyes stared up at the ceiling. My mother's image once again flashed into my mind.

"No…" I searched through the room for the others, but to no avail. I went back into the living room. "Gabriel! John! James! Where are you?!?"

"Here!" I heard James' voice coming from his room. I heard the sound of him crying. I ran inside and found him kneeling next to the body of his older brother, John. He looked up at me with tears running down his face. His eyes were bloodshot, and his hands were shaking.

"Th-they killed him, Gilver!" he wailed, "They killed him!" He starting sobbing again. I grabbed him by the shirt and picked him up.

"Where is everyone?" I roared, "Who did this?!"

"They…Those monsters did this!" He said hysterically, "Those things-..there still here!"

"Where are Gabriel and Sarah?!?" Sarah was their youngest sister, who was barely 10 years old. "Tell me!"

"I-I don't know!"

I threw him back to the ground, he crawled back to his brother's dead body, weeping.

I stormed out of the room and went out the front door. I was met with sight of two demons holding Gabriel and Sarah by the throat.

"Where IS he?!?" one asked Gabriel. Gabriel choked and coughed, but said nothing to the creature. The demon was cloaked in shadow, its eye's glowing red, gazing into Gabriel's dying face. The other that held Sarah was shrouded in a glowing blue light that hid its true form.

"Stop!" I yelled. They two contrasting demons turned towards me, their true forms still hidden. "Let them go!"

The dark demon looked at me, then at Gabriel. With a raspy cackle, he squeezed Gabriel's throat.

"No!" I roared and began running towards them. Gabriel's throat was crushed inside the demon's grip. His head felled back unnaturally, the back of his head falling to his shoulder blades. "NO!!"

The air around me suddenly blurred, and I found myself instantly behind the dark demon. Unfazed, I slashed Yamato through it. The demon screamed, and I turned my attention to Sarah's captor. The air blurred again, and I was suddenly above them. I fell down to the ground and slashed downwards. Yamato sang, and cut through the light-demon's arm. Sarah fell to the ground in a heap. I thrust the hilt of my blade into the demon's body, knocking it back towards its fallen ally.

The dark demon stood up with the demon of light. The darkness swirled around one, and the other glowed brighter and brighter until it was white. Both materialized swords in their hands. Each curved blade matched their cloaks of light and darkness.

Yamato hummed in my palm, and I immediately attacked. As I ran towards them, I saw that same blur and found myself behind them. Taking advantage of this, I swept Yamato through both of them. The light-demon shrieked in pain, but the one of darkness thrust out his blade to block mine. I pulled myself back to avoid any counterattack. The Dark demon spoke.

"You," It rasped, "You are the son of Sparda, are you not?"

The other demon recovered and took its place next to it's shadowy counterpart.

"Yes," the light-demon spoke clearly, "Can you not see the resemblance?"

"Why you're right, Dies." The other replied, "He wields one of Sparda's swords, as well."

"What do you suppose we should do, brother Nox?" Dies asked, "If he bears resemblance to Sparda, then he may just have Sparda's strength. We wouldn't stand a chance."

"Calm yourself, brother." Nox told him, "If he was indeed as powerful as that, we would not have survived his first attack."

"I see…You are a genius."

"Oh, I know. But you're just as smart."

"Oh please, you're too kind."

"Not nearly as kind as you thi-"

"SHUT UP!" I yelled. My fists were clenched so hard that my knuckles were white. My body was shaking. Yamato glowed and hummed. I looked down at Gabriel's twisted body. I saw Sarah struggling to breathe. The air around me began to crackle as if electrically charged. The power within me was just begging to come out. But I couldn't let it. Not around my family.

"Oh, I think he's upset, brother." Nox remarked.

"Indeed he is." Dies replied, "Shall we ease he suffering?"

"Let's" Nox agreed. At that, the two lunched forward, their cloaks blending together in the air. The only part of their true form that I could see was their clawed hands, and their glowing eyes. They struck out at me, alternating between light and dark. Yamato was just a blur in my hand as I scrambled to block their attacks. Farther and farther they pushed me back. Despite my own speed, they were faster still. The only way I'd match them is if I transformed. _No! What if someone saw me?_

I rolled to the side to avoid the next attack, giving myself more room to move. I jumped backwards into the air and landed 10 feet back. I slashed through the air with Yamato, sending that near-invisible line of light towards my assailants. The line whined through the air, Nox and Dies jumped through the air to avoid it. They landed quietly and slowly approached me.

"You cannot win." Nox proclaimed.

"And once we kill you, we will kill the rest of your friends" Dies laughed. His brother joined in with his raspy cackle.

A scream came from the doorway of the house.

I turned and saw Elizabeth standing there, shaking. The two demons looked at each other in confusion.

"Run!" I yelled to her. The demons heard this and lunged towards her. I reacted as quickly as I could. The air blurred around me and I was between Elizabeth and the demons. They kept charging forward, and were met with Yamato whizzing through the air. They both blocked with their own swords, and began pushing me back, closer to Elizabeth.

_No…_My mind screamed as they pushed me back. _I need to be stronger! B-But…I can't! _

We were almost upon Elizabeth, who stood in place, frozen with fear.

_She'll die if I don't! _My anger built up, and I could feel the power rising within me. It overwhelmed my body, and began pushing its way through my veins. Knowing it was the right thing to do, I succumbed to it. I felt myself transform. The air around me crackled with electricity. My strength was renewed, and I pushed the two demons back as hard as I could. Both were sent flying backwards towards the street.

I turned to Elizabeth, who now looked at me with a pale face, and panic-stricken eyes.

"Go." I told her, my was voice warped and I could feel the fangs in my mouth. "Its not safe here"

She nodded, still looking at me with fear. She turned and ran back into the house. I turned back to the two demons, who were already approaching me.

"Sweet girl." Nox said. "I'll enjoy playing with her insides."

"You will not touch her." I said calmly. They both laughed.

"We'll see." Dies chuckled.

They both sprang forward, quickly. To me, it was almost in slow-motion. I swiftly knocked away their blades, and swept the flat-edge of Yamato through the air, knocking them both to the side. As they flew through the air, I found myself right in front of them. I slashed with Yamato as fast as I could. The blade danced through the air, and through the demons' bodies. I jumped up into the air above them, and sent a flurry of Yamato's Cuts down on them. A cloud of dust kicked up as I landed.

As the dust cleared, the two demons stood up slowly.

At that moment, I felt my power slipping away. I sighed as I felt it leave me and I changed back to normal. The two demons laughed.

"It appears he can't keep that up for long!" Dies remarked, looking at his brother.

"How splendid!" Nox laughed.

"Not again…" I whispered to myself.

"Its too bad you're just a half-breed, boy." Nox continued. "Otherwise we may have been in trouble."

Suddenly, Dies was behind me. I turned just in time to see his sword of light crashing towards my face.


	8. Message in Blood

The sound of running water woke me.

I sat straight up and found myself in a bed. I appeared to be inside a medical clinic. I looked at my hands and arms, they were covered with bandages. I felt my face, more bandages.

"What's going on?!?" I panicked, "Where is Elizabeth?!?"

I got up out of bed and was about to step out of the room when Ian appeared in front of me. His flowing white hair was ragged and he had dark circles beneath his eyes.

"So you're awake..." He said in his deep voice. He motioned towards the bed. "Sit."

I obeyed and sat there, quietly. Ian sat down in a chair near the bed, just looking at me.

"What do you remember?" Ian broke the silence. He shifted in his seat and continued to look intently at me.

"I remember fighting those…" I glanced up at Ian briefly, "Those things…Then…nothing."

Ian nodded and put his hand to his chin, deep in thought. After a few moments, he spoke.

"Gabriel's house burned down." Ian stated, "You were found inside, severely burned. We don't know how long it will take to heal, and if it will ever truly heal at all."

I didn't care. I knew I healed faster than any normal person, in fact I believe at that point I had already completely recovered.

"What about Elizabeth?!?" I asked, "I told her to get out of there!"

"All of Gabriel's family is dead." Ian said bluntly, "Including Elizabeth. She died in the town square. That's all you need to know."

I couldn't believe it. My hands started to shake. My eyes began to well up with tears.

"No!" I screamed, "You're lying!"

I jumped out of the bed, and ran out of the clinic. I headed for the center of the town as fast as my feet could take me.

What I saw horrified me.

Blood was splattered all over the town square. Various organs lay in heaps scattered around in various places. A wooden pole was stuck into the ground. Upon it was Elizabeth's head.

My legs gave out from under me, and I collapsed to the ground. I began to weep, and I never wanted to stop. I looked up at her face, and again saw my mother.

_How many people need to die for me?_ I asked. _Why must I suffer so?_

_Power_

It always comes back to it. If I had been stronger, I could have beaten those demons. _I could have saved her!_ At that point I didn't even know which woman I was talking about.

I got up, and saw something on the wall of a building.

Blood.

Or rather, something written in blood. It read:

_What do you know? I __did__ enjoy it!_

I immediately bent over and began to retch. Nothing came up, and I just knelt to the ground, coughing. Ian came after me not long after. He helped me to my feet. As I stood up, I noticed something on another wall:

_If you can, thank our friend for us._

Friend.

_What?_ I asked myself. _Did someone betray me?_

I followed through with the thought. Only Gabriel's family was killed. That means they came here for me and didn't bother killing anyone else. They knew exactly where to find me and when. Obviously the traitor is someone I knew or at least someone who could be aware of my movements. Someone from the town _had_ to have betrayed me.

Ian and I walked back towards the medical clinic. It was a small building, and seemed to be the most technologically advanced place in the town, and that's not saying much. Ian led me inside, and brought me back to my room.

"The doctor is recovering, himself," Ian explained, "He doesn't like blood…I don't even know why he picked this profession…."

I didn't say anything. I just thought. Ian's voice turned to a low drone.

I saw them all…My mother, Gabriel, Rebecca…Elizabeth…They all looked the same. I was not strong enough to protect them.

_What do I do?_ I thought, emotionless. _Those things killed Elizabeth…No, they tortured her. They deserve to die! _

That much was certain for me. But the one problem with leaving was the traitor. If I left without dealing with it, then I could be attacked again. I needed to find out who it was and kill him…

_No…that will take too long!_

If I waited too long to leave, Nox and Dies could come back before I am prepared.

Ian finished talking and left the room. I lied back down on the bed, staring up into the ceiling.

_I know…I know what I must do._

*****

I got up out of bed and put on my coat. The bandages were still wrapped around my body, my face and my head. I grabbed Yamato from the bedside, and I went outside. I felt calm, emotionless and empty. So much death…So much death will change a man.

I walked into Ian's General Store.

"Hey boy!" Ian boomed, "What are you doing up?" He approached me with concern.

Yamato flashed through the air, and Ian gave a start.

I coolly sheathed Yamato with a click, and as it gave that familiar ringing sound, blood spurted forth from Ian's chest. And he fell to the ground.

Not daring to look back, I turned around and left the store.

****

Blood filled the streets, the stores and the houses.

The town was no longer bustling and cheerful, but instead was deathly silent.

I left, certain now that no traitor among the townsfolk would become a problem.

I remember feeling a measure of remorse. The cowardice of the traitor led me to that action. Those deaths were on his hands, not mine.

I walked down the dirt road outside the town, and wandered out into the unknown world.

After days of traveling, I came upon a much larger city.

Aged buildings were lined up next to each other. Trash filled the alleyways and steam rose from the sewers below. I walked among these people. Businessmen crowded the streets. Homeless hid in the alleys and huddled together for warmth.

People that passed by gave me odd looks. My clothes were travel-stained and ragged. I imagine that my bandages contributed to my reception as well. But I did not want to take them off. I did not want anyone to recognize me. I refused to have any more demons on my trail…For the time being at least.

My clothes, however, would need to be replaced. Before I left, I took a good amount of the money from Ian's store. After looking around the city for hours, I finally found what I was looking for.

A bell rang as I entered the store. There were shelves lined with fine clothes, and accessories. I browsed through the place. None of these clothes were particularly appealing to me, but I needed something inconspicuous.

The store's manager saw me and most likely noticed the state of my clothes and the oddity that was my bandaged face.

"Can I help you?" He asked. He was short, and well dressed. His eyes showed that he already made up his mind about me.

"Yes." I said, and tossed several items into his arms. "I'll take these."

Surprised, the store manager got a hold of the clothes in his arms, and turned back to ring them up.

"And how will you be paying for this?" He asked, his voice becoming very annoying to me. I dropped a stack of bills on the counter. His eyes widened in surprise

"I have more if that's not enough." I commented. Without waiting for a reply, I grabbed the clothing and headed for the dressing room. I changed out of my mud-stained clothing and into my new wardrobe. I looked in the mirror and examined myself. I had picked out a pair of black boots and dark blue- jeans. I buttoned up a\the brilliant blue dress shirt I had chosen and adjusted the black, wool trench-coat that went over it all.

I smiled at myself, but then stopped when I recalled the bandages. I hadn't taken them off at all. Slowly, I unwound the white gauze until I could see my silver-white hair. I kept going. Gradually my face came through, and what I saw surprised me.


	9. The Lost is Found

I was startled by my reflection. For a just a moment I thought I was looking at Dante.

"My hair is down…" I grumbled quietly. I swept my right hand back through my hair and replaced the bandages. I left the dressing room, abandoning my old clothes there. As I walked towards the exit of the store, the manager chased after me.

"You gave me too much!" he called out.

"Keep it," I said without stopping. I had plenty of money for the time being. I stepped outside once again and was welcomed by the sight of tall buildings and bustling people. Never before had I seen such architectural marvels, or such great numbers of people. The closest I had gotten to those things was looking at the black-and-white pictures in an old book.

I had only come to the city because it was so crowded and large. It was the perfect place to train without attracting unwanted attention. I only needed to find a suitable location. I spent the rest of the day searching through the city. It was late evening before I finally found what I was looking for.

It was an old building, perhaps a factory. It was abandoned and stood in the middle of a large, empty lot. I assumed that it wouldn't have been abandoned if it were in a decent neighborhood. The conditions of the distant houses confirmed my assumption that this was indeed a bad neighborhood to live in. It didn't matter to me though. I went inside just to make sure there was no one around.

It wasn't a factory, but instead was a warehouse. Wooden boxes were scattered in piles around the large empty room. There were few entrances into the building, so it was an ideal spot to defend. But the conditions of the walls would present a problem if I wanted to train at my highest potential.

I didn't waste any time though. I immediately went to work. I shut all the doors into the building, and stood in its center.

I had an idea of how I could train, but I first needed to test it out. I drew Yamato and sent a blade of energy whining across the room. I used the same trick that I discovered during my fight with Nox and Dies and teleported myself right into the path of the flying energy-blade. Using Yamato yet again, I deflected my own attack. It careened off towards my right. And I once again put myself in its path. However, the additional force added to the attack, due to me deflecting it, caused it to gain speed exponentially. Right after I blurred into place, I had little time to react before I deflected it again. This time, the attack shot straight at the ground. An explosion of dirt filled the room.

The dirt and dust settled. I had finally found an effective way to train.

I smiled to myself, and went back to it.

*****

As luck would have it, the warehouse had most likely held something of great value at some point. There were quarters for security guards near the back of the building. The bed wasn't too old and ratty, and there was a functioning shower.

After I finished training for the day, I noticed how filthy I really was. I hadn't bathed since before Nox and Dies showed up. I shed my new clothes and bandages and jumped into the shower. It took forever for the water to warm up, but I was finally able to wash out the blood that had seeped through the bandages and into my hair.

Blood…

It was the blood of all those people…Those innocent people…Though perhaps there was the blood of a traitor somewhere mixed into it. I felt a pang of guilt, but I quickly dismissed it.

_There was nothing else that could be done,_ I reasoned. _Nothing at all…_

I stood there, deep in thought. I absent-mindedly fingered the amulet my mother had given me. I never took it off, even when I was bathing. I grabbed it and lifted it up to my eyes so that I could see it. The red gem still shined as brilliantly as it did the day I got it. The gold chain and frame hadn't lost their luster. It was as if it had been preserved from time. Just like the memory of my mother.

_I shall never forget her_

_Never_

*****

The next morning, I went out and picked up supplies from various shops. I made the Guard Quarters as comfortable as I could. It already had a working, though aged, refrigerator. An old gas stove sat near the back wall. However, I needed to learn how to cook, so I grabbed a simple cookbook as well. Then it occurred to me.

_I don't know much about myself…About what I am…_I thought. _Perhaps there is a book on_ something_ like me._

The thought appealed to me. If I learned more about myself, and my abilities, I could become stronger faster. It was sound logic. But have there been others like me? I didn't know, but I decided to search anyways. I looked around one of the many unfriendly neighborhoods in the city. I happened upon an old library. It was a brick building, with cobwebs spread outside the windows. I entered quietly and found no one to be around.

I began to scan the shelves, looking for something I could use. As I searched through the rows of books, something caught my eye. A black, medium-sized book titled: "Hosts of the Demonic Realm"

I grabbed it and thumbed through the pages. Mostly it was an encyclopedia of various demons. There weren't many that I had seen, and I couldn't find any references to half-demons. But I _did_ find my good friends, Nox and Dies. The passage read:

_Nox and Dies: (Latin: Night and Day) _

_Two twin demons under the service of Mundus, the Emperor of the Underworld._

_They are mostly used as assassins, but of a different sort. _

_Many other demons can be sent when the Emperor wants someone dead. _

_Nox and Dies are sent when the Emperor wants someone to wish they were dead first. _

_The twin demons' tactics are revolting, but in the end they do what every assassin is hired to do. _

_Kill._

I slammed the book shut.

"DAMN IT!" I yelled. Just moments after, I realized where I was. The building looked empty, but there may be someone out there. I wasn't terribly worried. I went back to searching for more books.

"What are you looking for?" a deep voice asked. There was something odd about the voice. If I thought about it, or tried to commit the voice to memory, the pitch would change. It was an interesting effect.

"Nothing." I said, "Please don't bother me. I don't require assistance."

"If you say so," the fluctuating voice said. "But perhaps I can aid you, Son of Sparda."

My eyes widened for a moment. My back was still to whoever was speaking, so I didn't give anything away. I cursed inwardly when I discovered that I forgot to replace my bandages. I was so wrapped up in my thoughts when I left, I didn't bother to notice.

And now look what my mistake cost me. Someone recognized me. Most likely a demon. I turned slowly to face the source of the voice.

It was nothing more than a man…Or so it seemed. Whoever it was wore a thick cloak. Not a demonic cloak, like Nox, but just a regular cloak.

"How did you know me?" I asked, impatient.

"If you're worried about anyone else bothering you," The cloaked man replied, "Then I assure you that you worry for nothing."

I couldn't see his face, but I detected no deceit in this statement.

"Very well." I turned back to the shelves, "Now, how do you think you could aid me?"

The man walked towards me and stood beside me.

"Your father was Legend." He said, "Have you heard the tale?"

"Yes," I replied, "Many times."

"Ah…But have you heard of his power?"

"What?" I asked, confused. I heard him chuckle.

"That's OK." He said, "Not many have heard of the fate of his true power."

"You see," he continued, "That Sword of yours amplifies your own strength. It is imbued with demonic power. Not all of that power comes from you, I'm afraid."

I cocked my head. I knew it had its own strength, but I did not know where it came from. I sensed that this man didn't either.

"But don't worry." He assured me. "That strength is still yours to keep, regardless of where it comes from.

"Your father, Sparda, held his true power in his own sword. It served as an extension of his power, really. It was an extension of his very soul. When he sealed Mundus away, with the rest of the Demonic Realm, he also sealed away his own true power."

"How?" I asked, "And why?"

"He sealed it away because he feared it so." He answered. "The bulk of his power was transferred into his sword and was left there."

It still didn't make much sense. I had a feeling I wasn't being told everything.

"But…"The man continued. "That power is only waiting to be found."

"Found?" I asked, still confused. "Are you saying that it can be taken? Someone could actually claim my father's power for his own?"

"That is exactly what I am saying." He answered. "One could journey to the Demon world and find Sparda's power. If he has the…Necessary qualifications…He could take Sparda's power for his own."

I thought about this for a moment. Not only could I gain immense power, but I could do it quickly! I could become like my father and rule over all. That way, nothing would ever dare to harm me, or my loved ones. I came back to my conversation.

"So…" I began, "What must I do?"

The cloaked man chuckled.

"That, Son of Sparda," He replied, "You must find out for yourself."

At that, the man turned around, and vanished into the shadows.

"Dammit" I said aloud and turned back to the bookshelves to begin my search.


	10. Power

It was hours before I found something relevant, at first I didn't realize how relevant it was. It was an ancient scroll that held the information. The scroll looked centuries, perhaps even millennia old.

_How would something this old end up in a simple library? _I asked myself when I first saw the unassuming scroll. It seemed odd that it wasn't in a museum.

I opened it gently and read it. The faded script was in Latin. I only spoke a handful of the dead language, but not enough to read all this. I scanned the rest of the scroll, looking for hints of what it said. On the bottom of the document, was an illustration that caught me off guard.

It was a drawing of my amulet.

Or rather, it was a drawing of _both_ the amulets. I couldn't decipher anything that would tell me why this drawing was there. So I rolled up the ancient scroll and left the library. I had to find someone to translate it for me.

Of course I had to go back to the warehouse first. I couldn't risk being recognized again. I found my bandages and wrapped them around my face. I also remembered that Nox and Dies recognized Yamato as well. So I cut off some excess gauze and wrapped it around Yamato's hilt.

I then set out to find a translator. I knew it would be difficult, especially now that it was getting late. The sun had just hid behind the tall buildings and a dark shadow was cast over the city streets. Nevertheless, I asked around and was pointed to a museum, of all things. Apparently, the curator was fluent in Latin, and was even a specialist on translating ancient Latin scrolls and texts. The museum was minutes away from closing when I went in.

"You," I said to one of the guards, "Bring me the museum curator. I have business with him."

The man looked at me and sneered. His uniform was unwrinkled, and he held himself high, as if he felt he was actually important.

"Why should I be your errand boy?" he asked, with a chuckle.

I drew Yamato in a flash and pressed the sharpened edge against his throat. We stood there motionless for a moment. He trembled, and tried to stay as still as possible, afraid that I'd kill him if he moved.

"Ok! OK!" he whined, "I'll get him!"

I removed Yamato from his neck. His skin was pulsating with his heartbeat, and a thin bloody line ran over his jugular. He had no idea how close he came to dying. He ran off to find the curator.

Moments later, a stocky man in a neat suit walked into the museum's main chamber. He was nervous, obviously the guard told him what had happened.

"Is there something I can do for you?" the curator asked, "My name is Dr. Stein. I was told you had business with me"

"Yes," I answered, and held out the scroll for him to see. "Translate this."

"uh…Yes, let me see it please." His fingers trembled visibly as he reached for the scroll. I handed it to him and he immediately unrolled it and began reading. "Oh my…"

"What?"

"Th-This is…V-Very old." He began to stutter, "Wh-Wh-where did you get this?"

"A library," I answered, "Downtown, if its any of your business."

"H-How could that be?!?" He asked in disbelief, "This looks as if it has not been touched by human hands for millenia!"

Stein began to read the text. As he read, he began to pace around the room. My eyes followed him, but I didn't bother to move. Minutes passed before he finally reached the end.

"This is amazing!" he exclaimed, "Its magnificent!"

"What does it say?" I asked, impatient.

"It speaks of a way to enter the Underworld!" Stein said, "No! It mentions several ways, but only goes into detail for one!"

"Why is that important to you?" He was making me suspicious. No normal man would be this excited to read this.

"This tale is very significant to me" Stein answered, "A piece like this is very rare indeed. Please! Let me purchase it from you!"

"No." I answered flatly. He was visibly disappointed. "Tell me what it says and you can have it."

He smiled greatly.

"As you wish," he began to read from the scroll. " 'There are two sides of the world that we know of. In the light, there is peace and tranquility. In the light there is man, and the earth. But where there is light there must also be darkness. In the darkness, the demons dwell. This is necessary fo-'"

"Get to the point." I interrupted. "Tell me about the way to enter the demonic realm."

"Your impatience will be tolerated because of your generosity." Stein said with a bow. "I shall give you what you seek."

"It reads: 'There are different ways to enter it, the world of darkness and demons. Some are unknown, however. The nature of the Hellgate and the Tower are not known to us. But the nature of the Tree is. The Tree of Death it is called. For Shadow spawns from it, and Death devours any man that is unworthy. Only by defeating Death can the tree be controlled. The Tree feeds on despair, and sorrow. It feeds on death and pain. As it grows, the blood inside it flows like a river. The Blood the bursts forth from its boughs will give new life. The Blood that flows from its roots will serve as the gateway.'"

He stopped for a moment and showed me a diagram next to the ancient text. It was nothing but a circle with various intricate designs inside it.

"This is what must be drawn with the Tree's Blood." He explained, "But even that is not enough. This means that the tree must grow on the despair of someone before its' mature enough to be effective for this spell. But again, even that is not all."

He continued translating.

"'One thing we know about all the methods of entering the Realm of Darkness is the one common element. The Amulet depicted here must be present. Whether all methods require it to be whole or not is unknown, but the portal to the Demon Realm cannot be opened without the two halves being present.'"

"That's all I needed to know." I stated. I turned around and walked away.

"B-But!" He ran after me, "There's more!"

I stopped and waited.

"Once someone enters through the portal, it cannot be closed!" He exclaimed, "I have a s-s-s-suspicion that you intend to enter this portal!"

I turned around slowly to face him.

"Yes," I answered, "I do."

"You can't!" he yelled, "The whole world will be destroyed once they find out the portal is opened!"

"So?"

Dr. Stein was getting angry. He stood up tall and glared at me through his round glasses.

"I cannot allow this!" He said, "What do you hope to accomplish?!"

I smiled briefly and approached him.

"I go to my destiny." I replied, "This world means nothing to me."

I turned and left the building. Dr. Stein knew there was nothing he could do to stop me. To tell the truth, I had lied about my feelings on the fate of the world. As I walked back to the warehouse, I thought about how I'd really feel.

_If this world ends, then where shall I rule?_

The answer seemed obvious. The Demon World. I could defeat any demon that would cross my path. If my father did it, I could do it, too. But then…what if there was someone important to me? With my father's power, I could protect them from the demonic invasion.

I felt a strong pain in my chest. My sorrow pushed through my mind and invaded my own heart. Sadness overwhelmed me. The image of my mother, and of Elizabeth overcame me. I pushed the thought away, and recovered.

_No…I could not stand it. Love does not matter anymore. All that truly matters is Power._

_******_

I didn't sleep that night. I just paced around the warehouse, deep in thought. I had shed my bandages and absent-mindedly fingered my amulet. He had his, my brother Dante. He had his half of the amulet with him, I just knew it. Dante was even more attached to our mother than I was. I knew he would never leave it behind. He would never give it up.

That was the problem. Even if I _did_ find Dante, I wouldn't be able to convince him to relinquish his half of the Amulet…._But perhaps I could convince him to join me... Dante is my brother after all. Perhaps he feels the same as I do. _

That idea intrigued me. Two brothers could rule both worlds together. Both of the Sons of Sparda would reign over all life! After all, its only fitting that Sparda's sons should inherit what he fought to protect.

I shook the thought away. I clearly remembered Dante's cowardice, and his unwillingness to avenge my mother's death.

_If I ever see him again, I'll make him suffer as much as I did! _I gripped my amulet tightly as I reveled in my anger. _Then I'll _take_ his amulet from him! He doesn't deserve to rule over the entire world._


	11. New Job

Early the next morning, I set out towards downtown. The rotting streets and dark alleyways were nearly devoid of life. My stomach growled. I left without eating. I scolded myself inwardly for being so foolishly short-sighted. I checked my pockets for money but found nothing.

"Damn it!" I muttered, I took a right turn to double back and eat something at the warehouse. Continuing down a dark alleyway, I heard a footfall behind me. It was faint, but I immediately reacted and swept Yamato out of its sheath in one fluid motion. My pursuer held a club in his hand, but a fraction of a second later it became half of a club. The surprised assailant didn't even have time to react, as my blade immediately swept through his body. Bright blood followed Yamato as it left the man's side. Four more men jumped out of hiding and rushed towards me. The cowards had hid in piles of garbage so that they could have the element of surprise. The four men attacked at the same time, each carrying a random blunt object. Yamato sang as it sliced through each and every weapon. My attackers dropped what was left of their weapons and each pulled out a firearm. The men shot at me, but I spun my blade through the air like a propeller. The bullets were deflected into the wall next to me. Without missing a beat, I teleported myself behind them and with one deft move, decapitated them. Their heads rolled to the ground, their eyes still blinking, their mouths still forming words. Slowly, their movements ceased, and blood began to pool around their lifeless bodies.

I heard the sound of clapping behind me. I immediately "tricked" myself to the source, and pressed Yamato's razor sharp edge at the man's throat. The man didn't even blink. I examined him closely, expecting a demon. A human would be wide-eyed, begging for mercy at that moment. But this man was indeed a man. His bravery impressed me, so I spoke.

"Who are you," I asked, "And why are you trying to kill me?"

The man smiled, and looked straight into my eyes.

"Kill you?" He asked incredulously, "Why would I want to kill you?"

"Oh," I remarked, catching on to what he was. "You were just planning on knocking me out cold and stealing anything I have of value. Am I right, Theif?

"Yep." He said simply. "that's _just_ it."

"You scum." I sneered. "You have no honor and no dignity. You wallow in the excrement of others to simply to gain the advantage of surprise."

I glared at him, and had half a mind to push Yamato's blade through his neck. But before I could decide, he smiled even bigger.

"I guess if you put it _that way_…" He looked as if I was not threat at all, as if he owned me and the very air I breathed. "I never liked these jobs anyway. Too much garbage and not enough reward."

He looked down at my blade, and the corpses on the ground.

"though…Finding you seems to be reward enough."

"What do you mean?" I asked slowly, not liking where he was going.

"Well it just so happens that we've got an opening..."He glanced again at the dead men, "Or five…How would you feel about a job?"

"Not interested." I said immediately. The man laughed, and put his hand in the pocket of his neat, dark-blue suit.

"You sure about that?" He asked, still smiling. A blonde strand of hair fell in front of his brown eye. "Big money. And since you seem to be so fond of honor, we'll let you kill people _your_ way."

I scoffed. He was obviously just a mob-boss looking for a new lackey. I sheathed Yamato, confident that this man wouldn't and couldn't harm me

"I care nothing for money." I turned and walked away. "Good-bye"

"Hey!" The man called out to me, as I headed down the alleyway. "There's more than just money! Good food, women, respect!"

Still, I walked.

"Secrets, and information! Hell! You can find anyone just about anywhere in my business!"

I stopped. _Anyone?_

I turned to face him.

I was interested.

"There we go…" The man said, satisfied that he struck the right chord. "You're looking for someone, right?" He walked down the alleyway, towards me, with both hands in his pockets.

"I can find who you're looking for." He said confidently. "And even if I can't, there will be about fifty other guys who can help to. They'll owe you, because you'll be working for them, too."

He stopped in front of me, and extended his right hand.

"What do you say?" He stared right into my eyes, and I felt a sense of kinship with him. I still cannot describe it to this day. I took his hand and we shook in agreement.

"Great!" He said, his smile returning bigger than ever. "You go ahead with whatever business you have today, and I'll meet you bright and early tomorrow morning."

He handed me a card, turned, and walked away.

I looked at the card, it read:

"Daniel Ledder

Eclipse Gallery

586 Royal Ave."

I turned the card around and found something written with a pen:

"6:00 AM – I'll treat you to breakfast"

My stomach grumbled. All I had for breakfast back at the warehouse was a couple dozen eggs that I'd likely burn, and around fifty energy-bars. I put the card in my pocket and reluctantly went to eat another tasteless meal.

The next day, I woke up and immediately went to go meet Daniel. His gallery was in the best part of town. The streets were cleaner, and the buildings looked neat and professional. One could only assume why. The Eclipse Gallery was a tall glass building, with tall ceilings and wooden floors. On the walls were hundred of paintings and photographs. There were a lot of pictures for a front to a criminal organization.

As I examined the artistry on the walls of the gallery, an elevator bell rang and Daniel walked out into the room. He spotted me immediately and smiled.

"Hey!" He approached and stood next to me. He examined one particular painting with me. "Beautiful, isn't it?"

I nodded in agreement. The painting detailed a warrior's death. The brave and valiant warrior stood amongst hordes of twisted and horrifying monsters. A sword was thrust into his heart, and yet the look on his face was that of peace, rather than pain. The gentle sunlight shined down upon his body, and cherry-blossom petals floated gently to the ground around him.

Daniel looked deep into the painting, as if he was looking through it. He gave a slight start, and awoke from his brief trance.

"So," He said quickly, "I hope you came hungry!"

Daniel took me to a richly decorated restaurant. The furniture alone must have cost more than all of the clothes on my back. A waitress, primly dressed, brought us food almost immediately.

"I come here quite often as you can see," He explained, "I don't even have to order my food anymore!"

The food that was brought made my mouth water. Pancakes, scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage and caviar were generously garnished upon extremely fine china. Various breads, rolls and biscuits, fresh from the oven, were in a covered basket.

"I have them bring everything on the breakfast menu," Daniel went on, "so I can always choose differently when I want to."

My mouth watered as I stared longingly down at the food before me.

"My friend!" He exclaimed, "Eat!"

I quickly picked up a fork and dug into the eggs, then the bacon. A childhood of family breakfasts kept me away from the richer foods. I put the fork to my mouth, but then stopped to adjust the bandages over my mouth.

Daniel looked at me in shock as I wolfed down the food. But his look of surprise turned to a look of amusement. He seemed to enjoy watching me eat as if I hadn't eaten in days. I stopped eating and reached for a glass. As soon as I picked it up, a woman poured orange juice into it. As surprised as I was at the sort of help, I hadn't had orange juice in ages. I gulped it down, carefully to avoid spilling on my bandages. I set the glass down and resumed eating.

A few minutes, and a couple quiet chuckles later, I set down my fork and suddenly realized how I had behaved. I looked up at Daniel, like a child looking at his mother after he misbehaved.

"How did you come to wear those bandages?" He ignored my display of starvation, but still smiled slightly. I didn't know how to answer the question without giving away too much. So I kept it vague.

"I was in a fire." I responded, "I don't want to talk about it."

"Fair enough," he replied, "I didn't mean to pry."

"Its alright," I answered, "You gave me breakfast you deserve to ask something at least."

"Ah yes," he sighed, "I am going to ask more of you, I'm afraid."

Now it was down to business.

"You have exceptional skills," Daniel continued. "The deal is as I said before. I will help you find whoever it is you're looking for. I will pay you quite a bit of money as well. All this in exchange for your services. You can take any job you want, and refuse them as well. However, you won't gain as much money or favor that way. You will be less likely to find your guy, nor will you gain something that is worth far money that money."

"What is that?" I asked, unfamiliar with the workings of organized crime.

"Respect."

Indeed, it sounded like a good deal. I would stay away from the dirty jobs, and go right to the top.

"What kind of work would I be doing?"

"It varies." Daniel shrugged. "One day you could be escorting goods to a safe point, the next you could be killing off rival gangs"

Daniel took a sip of coffee and set the mug down.

"That's another thing." He pointed at me, "You have to be careful of who you kill. I've got friends and I've got enemies. Don't kill my friends, please."

He laughed out loud, as if it was a joke.

"I won't do things the conventional way." I pointed out. "I will not resort to cowardice. My enemy must be given a fair fight."

"Have it your way," Daniel reclined into his seat, "Like I said, you decide what you do."

The was it, everything was understood. I now worked for Daniel and his friends. My plan to enter the demonic realm and gain my father's power was now in motion. I almost felt like laughing. An evil joy rippled through my very being. This was the first step towards finding Dante and using his amulet to open the gateway. I calmed my mind and focused on the present.

"We are agreed" I stated, "What is my first job?"

"Down to business, eh?" Daniel chuckled, "Well, that's just fine. Your first job is for me. I need you to transport some money for me."

"That's it?" I asked, already surprised at my employer's simple requests. "Something tells me its more than just dropping off some cash at a bank."

"Of course it's more!" Daniel laughed, "You're going to have quite a few men trying to stop you."

"Why?"

"Well," Daniel started, "the amount itself isn't the focus here. It's the bills themselves."

"Counterfeit?" I asked, Daniel shook his head.

"No, its stolen currency and it is being tracked by the police." He took another sip of coffee.

"Ok…So is _that_ who is coming after me?"

"Nope." He replied simply, "They're going to move in when the money pops up onto their grid again. My rivals all think this money is the perfect way to get rid of any competition."

I nodded in understanding. Once the police found out who ended up with the money, they'd move in and charge them with the crime. Not only that, but the group would be put under the microscope from then on. Their usual criminal activities would be halted.

"So your competition wants to take the money before you can use it the way they want to."

"Yes."

"Wouldn't the group you are framing just find the money and use it themselves?"

"No," Daniel's smile returned, "An…anonymous tipster will contact the police about the money."

He examined a scone, "The money will be discovered before they can even begin to formulate a plan of action." He took a little nibble of the scone and set it down.

"Sounds like a good plan," I commented. He chuckled lightly.

"I've made better." He boasted, "This is child's play. Now, if they were smart enough to call the cops on _me…_it'd be a little more challenging."

He sighed heavily, and eyed the last pancake.

"It seems that no one is smart enough to do anything here," He said regretfully, "You going to eat that?"


	12. Hard at Work

I stood in an old alleyway, waiting patiently. The cool evening breeze swept through the surrounding buildings. My coat and bandages protected me from the chill. A single street-light illuminated the entrance to the alley. It flickered on and off as the wind grew stronger.

My left hand toyed with Yamato, pushing it out of sheath slightly, then clicking it back in. I was waiting for someone who would bring me a suitcase full of the stolen money. From there I would transport it to the offices of one of Daniel's rivals. I had little time before the police showed up. As soon as the money is in my hands, Daniel is set to call the authorities. The money should be there-

I heard footsteps approaching. I wasn't afraid of anyone finding me there, so I didn't react beyond a brief glance. A man approached me, he wore an overcoat and a hat.

"Not very inconspicuous, are you?" He asked me.

"Look who's talking." I shot back.

The man glared at me from under his fedora, and handed me a suitcase.

"Just get it done." He growled. I didn't have time to argue with him, and killing him would make too much unnecessary noise. He walked away, sticking to the shadows like the cretin he was. I turned down the alleyway and made my way to the target. The target was a bank, of all things. I was supposed to break in, and put the money inside the bank owner's private safe. One of the owner's men was actually working for Daniel, and had discovered the code to the vault. Once the police arrive with a search warrant, they'll look into the safe and find the money.

But first I had to get there.

The narrow alleyway led to a normally busy street. This end of town was notorious for being controlled by the various criminal organizations. Once night fell, no one dared to venture out, except for the criminals themselves. And yet, there were none in sight tonight.

I calmly walked into the middle of the street, and turned to the direction of the bank.

I heard the sound of guns being readied. I didn't bother to react. I just kept walking.

Before I could take two steps, bullets were whizzing by me from all directions. My attackers were cautious enough to use silencers, but their assault still made more than enough noise. Bullets collided with the asphalt, kicking up dust and debris. The bullets kept coming, tearing through my body, though not doing much damage at all. My only regret was that I would have to get new clothes.

As the wind returned, the dust cleared, and I could see my assailants looking at me in shock as I kept on walking. I heard the sound of gun magazines dropping to the ground; I took it that my message was received. I used my teleportation trick and vanished before their very eyes.

From my vantage point on the rooftops, I heard excited shouting.

"Where the fuck did he go?!?" One asked, "He was just there!"

"Who cares about where he went!" Answered another, "How did he survive that?!?"

I had heard enough, so I continued on my way to the bank, but this time from the rooftops of the nearby buildings. I jumped from building to building, never making a sound. The old rooftops were dirty and rotten, so I had to take care not to fall through.

After a few minutes, I arrived at the bank.

The bank was newer than the surrounding buildings, and it was the only one with the lights still on. Obviously, they knew I might be paying them a visit. Through the windows, I could see armed men patrolling the entire bank.

Getting in was easy, I found a drainpipe that came down from the roof and I climbed down with one hand carrying the suitcase. About halfway down, there was an unlocked window. Daniel was right, these people weren't too smart.

I waited until the nearby patrol turned the corner, and I climbed inside. The hallway reflected the lavishness that is typical of crime lords. Marble floors and expensive security cameras were not the only things there. I "tricked" my way through the hallway to avoid the cameras, and I made my way to the target office.

A few moments later, I was there. The sign on the door read: "James Byron". But something caught me off guard. There was an electronic lock on the door. It was a simple keypad, and under normal circumstances wouldn't have stopped me. However, the point of this mission was to leave no trace.

"Damn it," I whispered. But then a thought crossed my mind. _Could he really be that stupid?_

I walked towards the door and entered in the code that I was given for the safe. I hear a click, and the door unlocked. I smiled to myself.

_Not smart at all._

I entered the room and moved quickly towards a large painting of a mountain range that was directly behind the office desk. I lifted the painting up and found a safe, hidden behind it.

I entered the same code I used on the door, and the safe popped open. Inside there were bars of gold, and seemingly worthless family heirlooms. I placed the briefcase inside, and it barely fit. I closed the door and replaced the painting.

But just as I was about to open to the door to leave, I heard some commotion in the hall.

"No! You don't _need_ to search anything!" A man yelled, "I don't have what you're looking for!"

_Dammit_! I had taken too long! The police got there sooner than I had anticipated. This office had no windows and the only door was the one I came through.

_How do I get out?_

I looked all over and couldn't find anything. I drew Yamato, expecting to have to cut through them to get out. Daniel would be disappointed, but at this point I couldn't see any other option.

I walked into the center of the room, and my foot pulled the carpet aside. I looked down and saw something beneath it. I moved the carpet and found an old ventilation shaft. The old system must not have been in use anymore, so it must have been kept there for some kind of escape in case of an emergency. How ironic.

I opened the grate and set myself down on in the duct as quietly as I could. I did my best to manipulate the carpet so that it wouldn't look like anyone had moved it when I closed the grate. As soon as I pulled the grating closed, I heard the door open.

"I'm telling you!" someone pleaded, "I have nothing you want!"

"We'll see about that," someone replied, "Open it."

"B-But.."

"Open it!" he yelled.

"Alright!" I heard the painting being moved, and the code being entered.

"What!?!" the owner shrieked, "What is that?"

The suitcase was opened and the bills examined.

"James Byron, you are under arrest"

As Byron's rights were read, I quietly made my way through the duct and at last came to an exit. I kicked the grating out and jumped to the ground below. I landed in a pile of rotting garbage.

"Damn it!"


	13. True Evil

Daniel sat in his gallery's lounge, visibly contemplating something. I walked in, covered in garbage. Daniel snapped out of his trance and examined me curiously.

"Do I want to know?" He asked me, smiling. I shook my head. "Very well, I trust the job is done?"

"Yes." I answered, "The police found the money."

"Excellent." He stood up, "Now they will search the rest of the building and find various reports confirming that Byron ordered his men to steal the money."

"Really?" I was rather surprised to hear that, "How did you manage that?"

"You really don't think that you're my only asset" He smiled, "do you?"

This is the man I met after he had men try to rob me. I hadn't figured that he would be this intelligent. His plan seemed to work perfectly, even more than I had originally thought.

"Of course not." I responded.

"I have a man inside the building." He said, "Ok…Not a man, but a secretary."

He smiled again, "and a very…talented one at that. She will also testify against Byron in court, for modest fee."

"It sounds like you've got everything covered." I said to him, "Is there anything else you require?"

Daniel shook his head, then caught himself.

"Ah! I almost forgot!" He reached into his coat pocket and handed me the envelope that was inside. There was an impressive amount of cash in it. "Payment."

"I don't-" I began, but he interrupted.

"You'll need some new clothes!" He laughed. I examined the state of my attire. He was quite right, I needed to replace my outfit. Those stains wouldn't come out of that material. I was happy with the fact that I could purchase several custom made outfits with the amount in the envelope.

"Very well." I accepted the envelope. "I'll be on my way now."

"Thanks for the help, Gilver." He called out as I left.

On the way back to the warehouse, I picked up some new bandages and a placed an order for some new clothes. The tailor took my measurements, wrinkling his nose at the smell of garbage, and sent me on my way, after taking his payment, of course.

When I got back to the warehouse, I found that the room in the back had been refurnished. Someone had broken into my home and left expensive furniture behind. Not only that, but they stocked my refrigerator with expensive cuts of meat, and gallons of pancake batter, among other things.

I smiled to myself.

"I could get used to this," I said to myself. I noticed also that there were brand new pots and pans, as well as a simple cookbook. I picked it up, and began to read.

***

The next few days were quiet. I had no jobs from Daniel, and I had been learning to cook without burning the food. My breakfasts were delicious, and I no longer regretted eating at the warehouse. After one such day, I put on my stained clothing over my new bandages and made my way to the tailor to pick up my new clothes.

The tailor greeted me with a smile, probably because I had paid him handsomely for his services. He had worked overtime to get them done as soon as possible. The first outfit was a long, black coat made of velour. It had dark green embroidery winding down the edges of the coat. With it came an embroidered blue vest over a dressy, white shirt and black pants. The second was a long, dark blue coat, also made of velour. Ornate, white embroidery ran down the length of the coat in stunning patterns. A simple white vest and shirt were included with matching pants. Surprisingly, the tailor had thrown in some new boots for this one, and the final outfit.

Finally, there was a blue coat made of Chinese silk. The interior was lined with richly patterned gold silk, while the outside edge was embroidered with a spiraling white pattern. A dark blue leather vest and pair of pants went along with it, as well as a set of brown, knee high boots.

I examined each one and was satisfied. I tossed the tailor a tip and walked out with all the clothing draped over my arm.

I went back to the warehouse and changed into the dark blue coat and its matching outfit. I decided to pay Daniel a visit, to see if he had found any information on Dante's whereabouts.

As I entered the gallery, I once again saw Daniel staring at the same picture he had been so immersed in last time. I couldn't be sure, but it looked as if his eyes were welling up with tears. However, as soon as I entered, he looked fine, but he still stared at the painting.

I took my place at his side and examined the painting again. I thought about why he would choose this particular painting to be enamored with. Then it hit me.

"Who was she?" I asked.

He stared at the painting for a few moments longer, silent. Then he spoke.

"My wife." He replied, emotionlessly. "She died years ago."

"She painted this?" I looked the masterpiece up and down. "She had great skill."

He nodded in agreement.

"And a kind heart." He continued, "She could always brighten my day, no matter what."

"She had hair like the golden sun, and eyes that could make even the bluest ocean turn green with envy."

The image of my mother flashed before my eyes, and I fought the urge to shut off my emotions.

Now I knew why I felt a kinship with him when we first met. He had lost someone, too.

Except, he didn't seem to shut everything else out. He was still happy, and yet…

"What happened to her?" I suspected that I knew the answer.

"She was murdered." He replied softly, "Right before my eyes."

It appeared that I was correct, but I wasn't satisfied yet.

"What happened to her killer?"

To my surprise, he seemed to grow colder. As if only now did he shut off his emotions.

"I found him. I found him myself." He stared off into space. "With my own hands, I killed him."

"So you got your revenge?" I asked, "Good"

"Perhaps," He replied, still cold. "But perhaps not."

I was confused. He lost the one he loved, and took revenge upon the man who killed her. I myself intended to get my revenge, on whoever killed my mother, and those cursed demons who killed Elizabeth. But I had other business first.

"Doesn't it make you feel better?" I pushed, "Knowing that you killed such a person?"

"No." He answered quickly.

"Why not?"

"Because when you live to kill someone," He answered as he turned to me and stared into my eyes, "part of you dies along with them."

I stared at him for a moment, then turned away in thought.

"After long enough, you remember who you once were."

"But if you don't" he continued, "you will become something that is truly evil."


	14. Brother

His words echoed in my mind in those coming days. I spent them doing odd jobs for some of Daniel's friends. My work kept them happy and willing to keep their eyes and ears open.

During one of those jobs, I was directed to go meet with a close friend of Daniel's. He was going to coordinate an operation in another city. The meeting was supposed to take place in a nearby club downtown. It was concisely named: "One" and was more of a lodge than a club.

Daniel's friend, Cecil Erickson, sat in a comfortable wingback chair, while his various hired mercenaries were standing in a semi-circle around him. Cecil was a heavyset man, with dark-rimmed glasses and grey hair. I strolled through the door and took my place in the circle.

"Late, are we?" Cecil asked with a sarcastic tone. "Should we wait until you're ready, your highness?"

"I'm no stranger to sarcasm," I said flatly, "And the only thing keeping me from silencing yours is the fact that Daniel wouldn't be pleased with me if I killed you."

Cecil glowered at me, and the mercenaries around me chuckled with amusement.

"You may begin," I instructed. The mercenaries laughed again. Cecil turned red with embarrassment.

"I called all of you here, because I've put a hit out on a rival group in one of our neighboring cities."

"Is that it?" I asked, "An assassination mission?"

"Yes." Cecil answered. "But we're talking about killing an entire syndicate of crime lords. They've all got each other's backs and have a small army of mercs to protect them."

"Sounds complex." I pointed out. I appeared to be the only one questioning this man's planning and authority. The rest seemed to follow blindly, like a pack of tamed wolves. "Are you sure these men can even get close enough to them?"

"I've hired all of you because you are the best in your field." Cecil said, "You will all be targeting an individual when they are most vulnerable to your respective specialties."

"Where is all this happening?" I asked, again the only one who seemed to have a mind of his own.

"The plan is to go down to Newport, and-"

"Wait!" One of the mercenaries interrupted. He was tall and extremely muscular. He looked like the bouncer type, and probably worked at the One. "You want us to go to Newport?"

He sounded almost panicked, like the idea of going to Newport was like going to certain death.

"Yeah," One of the others said, "We can't go there! That's Tony Redgrave's turf!"

That name sent a shock throughout my body. I froze instantly, my eyes widened in complete and utter surprise.

I knew that name.

When I was a boy, Dante and I would play another game besides sparring. He would pretend to be a secret agent, while I was the bad guy, trying to catch him. He wasn't very stealthy, since he would roll around the house singing his own theme song. But the name he chose for his secret agent persona was: "Tony Redgrave".

I found him.

The city of Newport was a coastal town much like this one. The streets were dirty and mob-ridden. Mercenaries and assassins made a good living in that town. Who would have guessed that Dante would be hiding out in a city like that? I shouldn't have been surprised; Dante had always been attracted to rough-and-tumble lifestyle.

Now all I need to do was go there, find him, and take his amulet, I thought to myself, Then I can-…No…I forgot. 

The Tree of Death

It was true that I had forgotten that little detail. I needed to research the Tree and find out how to grow it. I knew that it fed on despair, and that its lifeblood was needed to open the portal to the Demonic Realm. Luckily, I had guessed that the symbol on the scroll I gave to Dr. Stein was important. I copied it on a separate piece of paper, so I had no more use for the document.

Now that I had found Dante, my plans could move forward.

But first…

The entire room was filled with chatter. The mercenaries were arguing with Cecil, who appeared to be losing ground.

"If no one wishes to go" I said aloud, "I will do the job alone."

The entire room went silent. All eyes were on me. The mercenary that had been first to object to the plan spoke.

"Yeah!" He exclaimed, "Let him go!"

"No!" Cecil protested, "You have to eliminate multiple targets at once! There's no way-"

"You can forget about any of us going to that town!" The third mercenary said, "Anyone who is crazy enough to go there is already there!"

"Yeah!" The second one joined in, "Once word gets out that you've taken out a hit on those people, they'll hire Redgrave to stop us!"

Cecil put his face in his hands. He knew as well as anybody that word always gets out. In this business, secrets are worth a lot of money. Covert operations are hardly covert, unless enough money is given to those who are participating to keep them from talking. The cost of Cecil's operation would increase exponentially.

"Whatever you have planned," I said, "I can do it by myself."

Cecil looked up at me though his glasses. I continued.

"Rest assured, I can do it." The mercenaries around me were relieved. "And I can guarantee that no one will know about the operation."

Cecil exhaled and looked to the ground thoughtfully. I gave him one more push.

"I will only ask a favor in return. No money is necessary."

Cecil looked up quickly. Clearly he had nothing to lose. He nodded his head.

"Do it." He said quickly. The other mercenaries shook my hand in thanks and left the room. Cecil himself appeared quite happy with the deal.

"I expect my orders to be given to me by tomorrow night." I told him, "I want to get there as soon as possible."

"Of course." Cecil said in reply, "You're really saving my ass on this one! A lot of my business partners are counting on this operation going smoothly."

"It will."

"Thank you, Gilver." He said, "What was that favor you wanted?"

"I'll let you know when the time comes."

And I left. I swept out the door and immediately went to the gallery to see Daniel. He was sitting at a table, enjoying his dinner.

"So…"He said as I entered, "You seem to have done quite a favor for Cecil. Not to mention the fact that you pretty much saved the asses of half the mercs in town."

"I didn't do it for them." I pointed out, "I did it for myself."

"Why?" He asked, confused. I sat down at the table across from him and manipulated my bandages so I could eat.

"Because," I answered, "I found who I was looking for."

"Really?" He asked, amused. "I was sure I'd find him first."

"So was I," I said, "But I had you looking for the wrong name."

"Wrong name?" He asked me, "You're kidding."

"No," I answered shortly, "It was my mistake."

It was true, I had been foolish enough to expect Dante to keep his own name. It was a costly oversight. I should have offered his description at the very least.

When Daniel asked who I was looking for, I only gave him a name and said he was my brother. Daniel had never seen my face, so he couldn't have looked for someone similar to me. Daniel did know my age, however, and he just let his sources bring him anyone who fit the profile. I helped sift through those reports, but found nothing.

Damn! I thought to myself, I shouldn't have made such a mistake!

"Well, at least you found him." Daniel said, "What's next?"

"I'm leaving town," I answered, "For good."

I took a last bite of a biscuit and stood up. Daniel stood up as well.

"So soon?" He seemed visibly disappointed, "And here I thought we were getting to be such good friends."

We were, and that was the problem. Friendship is something I couldn't afford. I wasn't quite sure if it was because of the fact that I thought friendship was beneath me, or if I was afraid he'd try to talk me out of getting my revenge. Either way, I had to leave. My destiny was calling me, and my father's power was just steps away from attaining.

"I must go." I told him. Daniel nodded his head slightly.

"Well then," He extended his hand, "Good-bye, friend."

I looked down at his hand and began to turn away, but then I remembered the way he told the story of his wife, and his vengeance. I remembered how fearless he was when we first met. Such a man was honorable indeed and at least worthy of this gesture of respect. Even though it may have contradicted my thoughts, I shook his hand.

"Good-bye"


	15. Fate

My orders came that morning, delivered right to the warehouse in a steel briefcase. I took the briefcase and sat down on my bed to examine its contents. Inside it was a stack of photos of my targets, as well as the times of all their appointments for the next week. Even the routes they take between areas, as well as the car models they drove, were included. I closed the briefcase, and started packing.

I was disappointed that I would have to leave much of my belongings behind. I folded my clothing carefully and set it in a suitcase that I had bought the last night.

Before noon, I was off.

Cecil sent a car as well, that was to take me to wherever I was supposed to be staying. The drive was longer than it should've been. The driver didn't seem to be concerned about getting that close to the speed limit. But I had patience. A few hours later, I was dropped off at the outskirts of a familiar looking town.

A large building stood before me as the car squealed away. It looked just like the warehouse I had left behind.

Perplexed, I entered and found a few large crates scattered about the main room. More importantly, I found a room in the back that was quite a bit larger than the one I used at the old warehouse. All of my old belongings were there, waiting for me.

"What?" I asked myself, audibly. I scanned the room, and everything was in its place. If I didn't know any better, I would say that I had never left.

There was a note left on the table, near the middle of the room. It read: "Never live on one suitcase – Dan"

I smiled.

My driver must have been given orders to drive slowly enough for all of my belongings to get packed and moved to this city. It must have taken dozens of men to get it all done so quickly. That sounded like something Daniel would have done.

My mind wandered back to the business at hand, and my amusement faded as I recalled why I was there.

Dante.

Somewhere in the city, Dante was hiding.

Just like he hid when my mother was killed.

My blood boiled at that thought. I was filled with such sudden and intense fury that my demonic form almost overcame me.

He must pay, I thought, I won't just take the amulet, I'll make him suffer along with the rest of this world!

In the back of my mind, I formulated a plan.

The next day, I set out into the city to see if I could find someone who knew where "Tony Redgrave" was. There were many who had heard of him, but who didn't know at all where he was. Some still didn't want to tell me because they feared some sort of retribution.

They all agreed, though. Tony Redgrave was the strongest and the fastest man they ever knew. How such a young and unassuming man accomplished that, they didn't know. But they feared him, and respected him at the same time.

I continued my search, and ventured into the pubs and taverns that littered the ugly side of town. Mercenaries and hit-men were not uncommon. Even those dangerous men spoke highly of Tony's skill and prowess. The mercenaries seemed to know more about Tony than anyone else. And one in particular gave me what I sought.

"Yeah, I know him." The stocky man said. He had a shaven head that was covered in tattoos. His nature belied his appearance, as he was actually quite jovial, though possibly drunk. "He sticks mostly to Bobby's Cellar."

"Where's that?" I asked. He took a long drink out of his mug. He set it down when he was done and wiped his face with the back of his hand.

"A couple blocks down," He answered, "You can't miss it. It's a rough joint. Horrible beer. But middle-men come down there every night."

"Middle-men?" I asked, taking advantage of this well of information.

"Yeah," he chuckled, "You're new here, aren't you? Well, a Middle-man is a guy who brings us mercenaries the jobs. They act as agents for both the employers and the mercs."

He drained his mug, and set it down with a sigh.

"Bobby's Cellar has the highest flow of Middle-men per night," He continued. "Probably because Tony picked the place as his favorite. I'm telling you, he's one talented kid. He attracts a lot of jobs. Since he can't take them all, the rest of us are happy to take whatever's left."

"What could one do to get into a place like that?" I asked him.

"Walk in, maybe." He answered, amused. "But to walk out, you've gotta have some serious balls."

"What about getting hired as a mercenary?"

"Well, you need skills," he pointed out, "but if you really want to impress the middle-men, get a recommendation from a former employer."

Perfect.

"I see," I said, setting a wad of cash on the table, "Buy yourself some more drinks."

"Hell yeah!" he exclaimed. I left the bar with my plan becoming more and more perfect. Now the real work had to begin.

I went back to the warehouse and opened the briefcase yet again. The information there was quite useful. I searched through all the files, absorbing every bit of information that could help me. I now saw why Cecil was so worried about these men. They were part of an up-and-coming crime syndicate that was expanding into Cecil's territory. Not only that, but their operations were extremely secure. Every one of the crime bosses were protected by 25 armed men at all times. All of their vehicles were armor plated, and only driven by their closest and most loyal friends.

The need for simultaneous action was apparent. When one went down, the others are immediately notified. The survivors would go into hiding, and finding them after that would certainly be difficult, if not impossible.

The mission would have certainly been easier if more people would have been involved, but I was quite confident that I could achieve the objective on my own. Humans are easily manipulated, and getting them all in one place shouldn't be a problem.

The plan didn't take long to draw up, and after an hour of tweaking, I at last perfected it.

Bored with such trivial things, I set aside my plot and made my way back out into the city. I had two days until I would strike, which was more than enough time to do some research on the Tree of Death.

I searched every library and book store that I could find. More than once I thought I had found something relevant, but it turned out to be a mere work of fiction. People passed by me, staring at my bandages. These were the "good" people. Not the mercenaries who didn't give me a second glance. I ignored them all.

I searched all day and all night, until at last something showed up. But I was surprised to find that this information was in a children's book. What caught my eye was the picture of contrasting trees. One was bright and beautiful, the other was dead and seemed to emanate evil.

The Tree of Death.

The pages were old, and the colors were faded. But I could tell that at one point, this was a vibrantly colored book. It was titled "Life and Death," and had no author. I wondered why such a topic would be used for a children's book.

I flipped through its pages, and scanned through the words. It told the tale of the Tree of Life, and The Tree of Death. The Tree of Life was aptly named, and grew in the Garden of Eden. The Tree of Death was planted by the Evil One as an act of rebellion against God. It was his intent to imbue it with powers that might aid him later on.

I scoffed. I didn't even know if this story was true, but it was all I had.

I flipped the page, and the book seemed to transform within my hand. Rather than an aged, but brilliantly colored, book, I held a dark, leather-backed manuscript. It seemed ancient.

This has to be it.

I read on, looking for the location of the Tree.

"The Tree of Death was destroyed by God's Angels, who struck it down with fiery blades. God Himself prevented The Evil One from making another. The Evil One screamed his threats of dark revenge. For the Tree that had been important to him could not be restored.

"But all was not lost for him. For before he grew the Tree, he made two seeds, only two. He planted the one, and fed it with the despair of human souls. Only then did it grow to it's full potential."

I smiled. I now knew how to grow it. But where was the other seed?

"The second Seed of Death rested, unsown, for untold millennia. Until, the Evil One came to our world. He was banished back into the depths of Hell, but the seed remained here. His surviving demons took it to an ancient city within the deepest pits of the earth."

I turned the page to find a map, showing old representations of the world as I knew it today. There was an island, not far off the mainland coast. Surprisingly, Newport was the closest city to it.

"It must be fate," I said aloud to myself.


	16. Massacre

Chapter

I made my way back to the warehouse just as the sun was rising, nothing more than a red sliver of light on the horizon. The warmth of its beams were filtered and reflected by the buildings around me. The morning cold wasn't too bothersome, as my bandages protected against it, but I welcomed the warm rays of the sun.

The streets were silent, save for the sound of the occasional bird. As I walked back home, the world faded away as I plunged deep into my thoughts.

_Tonight is the night,_ I thought to myself. _Once those men are out of the way, I can focus on more important matters._

The importance of this mission was rather surprising. My whole plan would be ruined if I failed. I smiled to myself.

_I won't fail._

* * * * *

The moon hung low in the sky the night, surrounded by fog that rolled in from the ocean. The evening traffic was dying down, and the mercenaries were making their way to their favorite bars.

Five men, dressed in neat suits, made their way home from their favorite clubs. All traveled from different locations, in armored cars, with an escort of armed men following in several armored trucks. Completely secure.

A loud bang erupted from one of the armored cars. The tire had gone flat. The driver pulled over and examined the tire.

"It'll need to be replaced." He told his passenger. "I'll check in with the others."

The passenger, a balding man of forty, nodded his head and reclined in his seat.

Across town, the crackle of a radio could be heard from another of the armored cars. The driver pulled out his radio and answered. Several others followed in suit.

"We've got a flat," said a tinny voice on the radio, "We'll check with you in a little bit."

"Roger" the driver responded, and put the radio away.

"Is everything alright, Mike?" the passenger asked his driver.

"Yeah," Mike responded, "They just need to-"

The sound of crashing metal, breaking glass interrupted him. The armored car skidded off the road with a huge jolt.

"What the hell?!?" the passenger yelled, panicked. Something had hit them, and knocked them onto the sidewalk. A garbage truck had smashed into them. Its grill was bent inward, and the driver had already jumped out to see if they were alright. The armored car was relatively unharmed. The passenger-side door had a large dent in it, but there appeared to be no serious damage.

"Are you alright?!?" the garbage truck driver asked, "Is anyone hurt?"

"No, no." the passenger responded, "Not yet." He walked towards the truck driver, who backed up slowly.

"What are you doing?" he asked cautiously.

"You know how expensive these cars are?" He pulled out a gun. "This wasn't designed to protect from idiots like you that can't drive!"

"Please!" The driver pleaded, "It was an accident! Someone jumped in front of my truck!"

"Bull shit!" The passenger aimed his pistol and fired a round into the truck-driver's leg. He fell to the ground with a yell, and began rolling around in agony. The passenger turned around and went back to his car.

"Let's take this one back to the garage and get another one." He told his driver, "I'm not gonna be driven around in a piece of junk."

* * * *

The passenger rode in the back seat of his damaged vehicle. He gave his driver explicit orders to hurry up so they could exchange the car with another from their garage. They had a fleet of around 20 of these armored cars, in addition to another 20 of the armored vans that their soldiers followed them in. The garage was underneath a building used by one of the members of the group as a front for his drug deals. The garage was unknown to anyone but the bosses and their escorts.

"Hey, Joe!" the driver, Mike, shouted back to his passenger.

"What?"

"You want the Mercedes or what?" He asked as he punched in the combination for the gate.

"Surprise me." Joe replied.

"Oh, goody!" Mike exclaimed jokingly, "I get to choose! Must be my lucky day!"

"Don't get used to it," Joe laughed. They pulled into the garage and drove near a concrete structure near its entrance. It was a bunker where they could hold meetings between jobs or hide if there was an attack.

"Hey Mike, I'm going to go get a drink while you get everything together, alright?"

"Ok," he replied, "I won't be too long."

Joe got out of the car and made his way to the bunker, which had a convenient and fully stocked bar. As he opened the door and caught sight of what was inside, he gave a start.

"Hey! What the hell are all you guys doing here?" He asked in surprise.

The other members of the group were all there, with drinks in their hands.

"Our cars got busted up," one replied, "I was telling Francis here that it must be a bad day for driving."

"I think it's just a little weird that we all got into accidents at around the same time," Francis said, "That's just my opinion though."

Francis was a quiet guy, though impressively muscular. The others were Sal, Isaac, and Alan. Alan had been the passenger in the car with the flat tire. His driver had misplaced the spare tire, and had to return to the garage instead. Isaac and Sal were brothers and looked very similar to each other. They were young and notorious for stealing women from rival mob bosses. Needless to say, they had enough looks and charm to make you give them something without even realizing that you're giving it to them.

"Well," Joe said as he sat on a bar-stool, "I doubt there's anything to be worried about. But why didn't I hear about the rest of you guys coming here?"

"We tried to reach you, but you didn't answer." Alan answered.

"Damn, maybe the accident knocked out the radio." Joe said. "Damn fool in a garbage truck rammed me. What happened to the rest of you?"

Isaac set down his drink, and chuckled.

"Sal's car had some nasty stink in it." He looked at his brother with a smile.

"No!" Sal shot back, "It did not! Some idiot driver rear-ended me!"

"Oh, that's so horrible!" Isaac answered with sarcasm. "You didn't have to come back here for THAT!"

"You try driving around with a trunk that won't close!"

They bickered for a moment longer before Francis intervened. The brothers went back to their drinks.

"You should hear about what happened to Isaac." Alan said with a devilish look on his face. Isaac threw his hands up in disgust.

"Et tu, Alan?" He said.

"Isaac had a quick meeting before he went home today," Sal grinned, "The guy he was meeting accused him of sleeping with his wife!"

"Why?" Joe asked.

"He found a cuff link with his initials on it!" Sal answered, "You know, from the set that our mom gave him."

"I could have lost that anywhere!" Isaac contested. "That doesn't prove anything!"

"He found it in her bed!" Sal exclaimed.

"So?"

"Did you mess around with her?" Joe asked him with a smirk.

"No…" He took a drink, "I don't think so…"

He poured more whiskey into his glass.

"Ok! I don't remember!"

"Little Isaac had some playtime that big Isaac can't remember!" Sal giggled like a child. Isaac threw a napkin at him. "It doesn't matter if you did sleep with her or not! The husband chased you off and plugged your car so full of lead that you'll probably end up with cancer!"

Everyone but Francis laughed.

"I don't think it works that way," He said regarding the joke. Everyone else either shook their heads or rolled their eyes.

"Hey," Alan said, "What's taking the boys so long with our rides?"

"Yeah, its been forever," Sal pointed out as he got up from his seat.

"Their probably just deciding who gets what cars." Isaac shrugged. "I'll go check."

The entire garage had two ways in or out. The one was the main gate, and it was guarded by all of the escort soldiers. The emergency exit was guarded by security that stayed there 24/7. Other guards would randomly patrol the garage itself. Security was tight, especially when the bosses were all in one area.

Isaac stepped outside and found a massacre.

The patrolling guards were scattered around the area around the bunker. Their white shirts were bloodied, and a few were missing important parts of their bodies. Isaac stumbled back into the bunker in panic.

"Shit!" he yelled as he fell to the ground. "What the fuck?!"

"What?!?" Sal hurried to help his brother to his feet.

"They're dead!" Isaac said, still panicked. Alan, Joe, and Francis reached into their coats and pulled out their handguns. Sal went behind the bar-counter and pressed a button underneath it. A heavy steel door could be heard closing outside of the bunker. The button also activated a silent alarm that notified the guards outside.

But no one came.

All five men gripped their guns tightly. They listened for signs of help, or of danger. Sal pressed another button, and three monitors came down from the ceiling. They showed the garage, along with the bodies of the guards and drivers that were lying on the ground in pools of crimson blood.

"Who could have done this?" Alan asked, "No one could have gotten in!"

"I don't know and I don't care," Isaac answered, "We need to get the hell out of here!"

"Screw that!" Sal shouted, "I'm not going out there! We've got guns and food in here! We can wait it out!"

"Wait for what?" Francis asked quietly, "There's not a living soul out there."

"I don't know!" Sal whined, "But I'm not leaving this room!"

Suddenly, the room went dark.

The emergency lights went on, blanketing the room in a red glow. The security monitors were dark, destroying Sal's sense of security.

"Shit!" Alan cursed, "How'd he cut off the power?"

"He?" Isaac asked incredulously, "You think that one man did all that out there?"

"A group of people would have showed up on the monitors!" Alan shot back.

"Who cares?!?" Sal's composure was lost, "We can't see anything out there anymore! We're sitting ducks!"

"Shut up, Sal!" Isaac yelled at his brother, "Calm down, buddy."

Francis was the only one with a clear head, he went to the back of the room and began knocking on the wall.

"What are you doing?" Isaac asked. Francis moved along the wall, tapping on it every foot or so until a hollow sound could be heard.

"Got it." He said. He took a barstool and held it like a club. He smashed it into the wall, breaking off the sheetrock one piece at a time. Behind the wall was a reinforced steel door. A large white button was placed beside the door.

"When was THIS put in?" Joe asked, "I don't remember this in the plans."

"I put it in on my own," Francis said, "well, I had my people put it in…for insurance."

"Smart." Alan said. In the business of crime, you couldn't even trust your own friends.

"The door on the other side is covered completely by concrete." Francis explained, "So it's impossible for anyone to see it from the outside. I press that button, and a string of C-4 charges will set off, getting the concrete out of the way. But…"

"'Buts' from you are never a good sign." Isaac remarked.

"The door leads right outside, and the closest exit is the emergency exit out back."

"Dammit!" Alan paced the floor, "There is another exit…"

"Really?" Isaac asked.

"Yeah," Alan answered, "I had it built…for insurance."

"Wow, some have trust issues here." Joe joked, trying to lighten the mood.

"The storm drain has an entrance into the sewers." Alan continued, "It's not on the books, since had it put in myself. No one should know about it."

"Let's do it." Francis said, "Fast."

The group gathered near the door. Francis put his hand on the button.

"Lead the way." Francis said to Alan, who nodded in reply. Francis pressed the button, and a loud explosion rocked the bunker. The steel door flung open and the five men ran quickly through it, jumping over the chunks of concrete in their way. Alan turned left and ran.

"Follow me!" He called back. The garage was also drowned in red light, so it was incredibly hard to see.

"Wait up!" Sal yelled to Alan. The rest ran after Alan, who was the fastest of the group. A metallic clink could be heard ahead of them.

"Hey!" Isaac yelled as he ran, "You're not leaving without us!"

"Isaac," Sal panted as they ran in the direction of the sound, "Where'd he-"

Sal tripped on something and fell to the ground. Isaac, Francis and Joe stopped to help him up.

"You alright?" Isaac asked his brother.

"Yeah," Sal replied, "But what did I…" His voice trailed off as he saw what he had tripped on.

Alan's body was on the ground, in a pool of thick blood. His head lie a few feet away.

"Oh my God." Francis whispered, "What happened?"

"Shit!" Sal exclaimed, "Run!"

He broke free from the group and ran off on his own.

"Sal!" Isaac called out to him, "No!" He ran on after his brother. Francis and Joe stayed behind with their guns raised.

"Get him!" Francis yelled, "We'll look for the exit!"

In the dim light, Francis and Joe searched for the storm drain, ducking through rows of cars.

"Where is it?" Joe asked out loud. He held his gun tightly, expecting an attack at any minute. "This is like some frickin' horror show!"

"You're telling me" Francis replied. They continued along, back-to-back, knowing that they had a better chance if they worked together. Francis stepped forward and heard a metallic clink. Not like the first one, but more like a-

"Storm drain!" he breathed, "I found it!"

He pulled hard on the grate, but to no avail.

"Help me, Joe!" He pulled harder, "Joe?"

He turned around, expecting to see his friend, but someone else stood in his place.

A man with a sword, and bandages wrapped around his face. The last thing that Francis saw was the back of his own legs.

Sal ran in total panic, not caring who was after him, just that he wasn't dead yet. He was trying to reach the front entrance, hoping to get the attention of the guards outside.

Isaac ran after Sal, hoping to catch him before their attacker, or attackers, could notice. His brother was fast, and even faster now that his adrenaline was motivating him. Isaac couldn't keep up, and had to stop to catch his breath. His lungs burned, and his chest stung. The stinging in his chest worsened, until the pain was so great that his knees gave out from under him. He put his hand to his chest and felt that it was wet.

"What?" He looked at his hand, and even in the dim, red light, he could see that it was blood. Movement caught his eye, and he looked past his hand to see a man with a curved sword. He was just standing there with the sword half-sheathed. Ever so slowly, the man sheathed his sword, until with a loud ring, he locked it back into place.

As the ringing sound reached Isaac's ears, the pain in his chest increased, and he collapsed to the floor. His eyes darkened, and the world felt just a little colder.

"Open up!" Sal screamed at the gate. The steel bars were still blocking his way out into the lit and inclined corridor. He ran up to the bars and yelled through them for help.

"Someone please!" He shrieked as he shook the bars frantically, "Help me!"

No one came.

He looked around for the keycard panel, and found it completely destroyed.

He tried to reach through the bars, to get to the one on the other side, but the bars were to close together. He shook the bars again and yelled.

Something moved on the other side of the gate. He blinked and looked again, hoping for rescue. But it was just something moving along the floor. It seeped down-hill towards him in a slow, but steady, stream. It curved and bent, following the contours of the road until at last it came up to the gate, and flowed out underneath his shoes.

Blood.

Sal turned quickly, looking for some other way out. He breathed fast, and could hear his heartbeat pounding rhythmically, a fast-tempo to accompany his panic.

He ran back into the darkness, looking for his friends. With his gun in hand, he hid behind the cars, hoping to be able to sneak back to the storm drain.

_Maybe the others got out already,_ He thought, _Maybe no one is following me._

It was a comforting thought, though deep in his mind, he knew that it was false. A loud thump was heard behind him. He gave a small yell of surprise, and covered his mouth in shock. He may have given away his position. He immediately ran back towards to the drain and, hopefully, freedom. More loud bangs pursued him as he zigzagged between cars. He looked back to see what was following him, and slammed suddenly into something hard. He staggered back and put his hands to his knees, fighting off the pain. He looked up at his obstacle, slowly.

A concrete pillar.

He breathed a sigh of relief.

A man in bandages stepped out from behind the pillar.

Slowly, he approached Sal, who was now wide-eyed in horror. Sal backed up, babbling incoherently. The man drew his sword, and continued his grim march. Sal backed into a car, and put his hands up.

"Please!" He begged, "Please! I'll do anything! Pay anything! Don't kill me!"

The man didn't stop.

"Please!" He fell to his knees, "Why are you doing this?!?"

The man stopped right in front of him. His blue eyes seemed to shine brightly in the dim, red light. No answer was given. Save for the sound of ringing steel.

* * * * *


	17. The Captain

I sheathed my sword calmly, and Yamato rang with a sweet note that resonated throughout the silent garage. I turned from the man's dead body and made my way to the exit in the back of the complex. Blood seemed to glow brightly in the faint red light that immersed my surroundings. Seemingly-white liquids poured forth from the guards that were scattered about.

My plan had worked, and was surprisingly simple. All I did was "influence" events to get all of the crime bosses into one area without them getting too suspicious. They were being herded like sheep being chased by a pack of wolves.

I smiled.

_Or just one fast wolf._

Pride was what led to their downfall. If they could have tolerated driving around in damaged vehicles, they would have thwarted my plan and lived. Only one of them had a legitimate reason to go back to the garage. I had removed the spare tire from the back of his car, and placed shards of broken glass in the middle of the road in front of it.

The others were easy to manipulate as well. I simply had to distract the drivers of other vehicles so that they would crash into the bosses' cars. One man had another flaw. Lust.

His reputation caused much unrest among those criminals with attractive wives. Due to no fault of his, a cuff-link found its way out of his room, and into the bed of a former friend.

Brilliant.

I continued towards to exit, which was much like the entrance, save for the guards' building next to it. I arrived at the gate, which was now accompanied by a large steel door that covered it. When the bosses activated the emergency mode, the steel door had opened. But once the power was cut, the door slammed back down to the ground.

I unsheathed Yamato and cut myself a door. Both the steel doors and bars were cut cleanly. The metal crashed to the floor, letting in the bright light from the corridor that led out into the street.

As I walked back into the fresh air of the outside world, I noticed that it was still dark. My job hadn't taken as long as I had originally expected. The cool, night-breeze swept through the towering buildings that lined the littered streets.

All I had to do now was journey to the island to find the Seed of Death. The ancient city there held the key to moving forward with my plans. Somewhere on that island, deep beneath the surface of the earth, was the next step in my quest for ultimate power.

* * * *

The next morning, I awoke with the sun brightly shining through the filmy windows of the warehouse. I made myself breakfast, an omelet, and got ready for what I hoped would be an eventful day.

I replaced my bandages, freshly cleaned of blood, and set out with the map from that cursed children's book. I needed to find someone who could take me there. The island was not that far off-shore, but according to the map, it was surrounded by a treacherous reef. Sunken ships were drawn in a ring around the entire island.

The harbor in Newport was filled with old fishing boats. Old cargo containers were piled high in some areas, which meant that the larger cargo ships sometimes used this port.

The brisk sea-breeze carried the salty air through the entire harbor. The sound of gulls repeating their haunting cry filled the air. I moved down to the docks themselves to find a captain to ferry me to the island.

I found a man that looked like he would help me. He was a big man, tall and muscular. He had tattoos covering his arms, and scars covering his face.

"You," I said as I walked up to him. He was carrying a large barrel onto his boat, probably full of ale. "I require transport."

"Do I look like a ferry service?" He asked with a Scottish brogue.

"No." I answered curtly, "But you look like an opportunistic man." I reached into my coat pocket and pulled out a wad of cash. The man's eyebrows shot up instantly.

"Welcome aboard!" He said happily, "Where do you need to go?"

"Here." I pulled out the map and handed it to him. He immediately paled. He threw the map back at me.

"No, no, no, NO!" He waved his hand in emphasis. "Good luck finding someone stupid enough to go there." He turned around quickly, and disappeared into the cabin of his boat.

"Damn," I muttered and set off to find a more willing captain.

But to no avail.

Every ship captain that I talked to refused to take me to the island. They told stories of ships being eaten by a sea-monster. Others said that the reef was impassible. Still others claimed the island itself was haunted, and even if you got past the sea monsters and the reef, you would never make it off the island.

However, if there was one place where you'd find a captain that was crazy enough to venture into that cursed reef, it would be in the local pub, "The Iron Maiden"

Apparently, the name didn't refer to a certain torture device, as the picture on the sign was that of a "hardy-looking" woman.

I entered the pub, and was greeted with an array of smells and noises. Not all of them pleasant. The interior of the pub was very old fashioned. Everything was made of wood, and everything looked as if it was on the verge of falling apart. Giggles could be heard clearly through the ceiling. I didn't want to imagine what was going on up there.

The sweet smell of vomit filled the room, making me sick to my stomach. The various customers were mostly fishermen, usually with a mug of ale in front of them. Sometimes with a woman beside them, sometimes with two.

They certainly looked crazy, and hopefully one of them would take me to the island.

I went to the bar-tender, and explained what I needed. He smiled, a nearly toothless smile. He nodded towards the back room.

I thanked him, and passed through the splintered wooden-door. A middle-aged man was in there.

With a woman.

I looked up at the ceiling and cleared my throat.

"Huh?" I heard the man curse. I could hear clothing being ruffled around, and the rather young woman passed by me and left the room. Feeling safer, I looked back at the man and saw him glaring at me with baleful eyes. He had a short, brown beard and long, slicked-back hair. Like many of the others, he spoke with a Scottish accent.

"Thanks a lot," He said with sarcasm, "The sea isn't quite as well endowed as that woman."

"My apologies," I responded, trying to repress what I had seen. "But my interruption may have some worth to you."

"Oh yeah?" He found a mug of beer and took a long drink. "How so?"

"I need transport," I answered, and pulled out my money, "And this might buy you some time away from the sea."

"Ah" His eyes brightened, "That looks like enough to keep me away from fishing for a long while…"

"Indeed,"

"Where do you need to go?"

The bar-tender seemed to be confident in this man's ability, and lack of sanity. So I confidently handed him my map. The captain unfolded the paper and took a look at it. He smiled and looked up at me.

"You afraid of ghosts, man?"

"I'm not afraid of anything."

"Good." He remarked, "Let's go."

I was puzzled. He wasn't even afraid like the others. But I didn't question him, since I didn't want him to change his mind.

The man walked out into the pub, winked at a blonde woman and left the building. I followed closely, and felt my face growing hot as I passed the blonde woman. She was the one who was in the back room with the captain. I looked down at the floor, grateful that my bandages prevented anyone from seeing me blush.

I had never thought about women in such a way. My relationship with Elizabeth, though brief, was entirely pure. As I walked through that pub, I was nearly 17 years old. Oddly, I felt as if I had been robbed of my innocence, despite the lives that I had already ended without a thought.

_Forget it._ I thought to myself, _Women are a waste of time. _

_Nothing but a distraction._

Countless men throughout history had been struck down, or made into fools and failures because of women. I was not about to join their ranks.

The Captain led me out into the docks, where the cold air calmed my heated face. We walked along the wet, wooden planks to the far end of the harbor. A rusty old boat floated gently in the water.

"Here she is!" The captain spread his arms widely to dramatize the moment. "My one true love!"

His true love was a piece of junk, in my opinion. But I wasn't there to critique the state of his boat.

"Let's get going, Mr…?"

"Just call me 'Gerard'." He said, "I don't bother with 'Mr.' or 'sir'….Bugs the hell out of me."

Gerard stumbled aboard his boat, and began preparing for the trip.

"Food...Check…Bearings…Check…Fuel…Check"

He mumbled on-and-on for a few minutes.

"Booze…Hey!" He yelled in alarm, "Where's the booze?!?"

I sighed heavily. If he didn't find his alcohol, I'd be delayed significantly.

"Wait!" I heard him call out, "Found it! Let's get going!"

I heard the engine start. Gerard yelled out the window from the helm.

"Untie the damn boat, boy!"

I did what I was told, then jumped on board.

"Thank you," He told me, "I forgot that little detail."

It seemed odd to me that a professional fisherman would forget that. I didn't bother to question him, though.

"Normally, I wouldn't bother to ask you why you are going on that God-forsaken rock." He said casually, "But…Curiosity overwhelms me."

"I just need to retrieve something of value."

Gerard shifted slightly, and sighed.

"Ah, well then…" He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a gun.

* * * * *


	18. Swirling Shadows

I stood there, staring into the barrel of his old-fashioned revolver. Without taking his eyes off of me, Gerard pulled back on the throttle and stopped the boat.

"Sorry, friend." He said to me, "But I don't do well with competition."

"Competition?"

"You're a smuggler." He said, "Or at least you're working for one."

"No," I replied, "I am not."

"Well, then you're a thief." He cocked the hammer of his gun, "I don't do well with thieves, either."

"I'm no thief." I assured him, ignoring the gun pointed at my face.

"How can I trust that?" He asked me. "You said you wanted to retrieve something from the island."

"Yes." I answered, "There is…An artifact. An artifact of extreme importance to me."

"An artifact?"

"Yes, it rests somewhere on the island. Underground. Perhaps in some caves or ruins."

"Aye, there are both ruins and caves on that island." He said, "But none dare venture into the ruins."

"So you've been there?" I asked.

"Of course." He responded, "You didn't think I was fool enough to journey to the island without even being there, did ya?"

He sighed heavily, and looked me up and down. Finally he shook his head, and lowered the gun.

"I guess I _am_ a fool," He said, "Because I believe you. But mark my words, if I find out that you lied to me, I'll put a bullet in your head and bury you on that island." He turned to the helm and resumed his course towards the island.

A couple of hours passed by as I patiently waited to reach the island. Gerard grew comfortable and talked to for most of the trip. I suppose it was because he knew that I would leave with his trust, or die with his secrets.

"The island had been inhabited centuries ago." He explained, "The residents were…unfriendly to outsiders."

He took a drink from a nearby bottle. It looked old and dusty, but I don't think he cared how long it had been sitting out.

"They were cannibals, apparently." He continued, "If a ship wrecked on the reef, they sailors were as good as dinner.

"But for some reason, they all died out. I don't think there were any soldiers sent to the island at any point. They just vanished without any logical explanation. When another ship ran into the reef, they holed up in the ship because they feared the cannibals so. But after weeks of empty stomach's and dwindling stores of water, they had to venture out into the depths of the island. They found nothing but empty villages. No bodies, no bones. Nothing.

"Of course, the corpses may have been somewhere in the caves that are scattered across the island, or the honeycomb of catacombs beneath the ruins themselves. Though, I've only heard stories about that place. Most of the people who venture in there end up dead."

"Most?" I asked.

"There was one man who apparently went into the ruins and survived." Gerard said, "He was with a group of dare-devil archaeologists, perhaps looking for the same artifact you were. They entered the ruins, and wandered around, mindful of ancient booby-traps and supposed "curses". According to the survivor, they were all attacked by ghosts. 'Shadow-beings' he called them. He saw them, crapped his pants, and then ran like hell. His cowardice saved his life."

"Do you believe his story?" I asked him.

"Not sure," He responded, "If I had been lying, I would have left out the part where I shit myself."

He laughed loudly.

"Of course, that was years ago." He continued, "His story has become somewhat of a legend. A bedtime story, I suppose."

"I see." I said, "How do you know the island so well?"

"I'm a smuggler." He answered with a grin, "My group has a cache on the island. I bring in goods to the mainland."

"So that's what you meant before." I said, "You didn't want anyone else using the island."

"Aye," He replied, "We like to encourage the little ghost stories that float around, just to keep folk from getting to curious."

It made sense. The reef around the island was obviously not as impenetrable as the people were led to believe. Combine their fear of the reef with their fear of the island, and nearly all sailors and fishermen would stay are far away as possible.

"Brilliant." I commented.

"So…" Gerard started, "What is this artifact you are looking for?"

"I'd rather not say."

"Hmm…Fair enough." Gerard said, "Though it must be worth quite a lot if you're willing to go into the ruins to get it. Either that or you're suicidal. Judging from those bandages, I'd say it's the latter."

I looked up at him, perplexed.

"You must be in a lot of pain." He said, "I've seen that before. Someone is in so much pain they cling to whatever gives them the most comfort. Sometimes that's death…Sometimes its women."

I immediately blushed, once again thankful for my bandages. However, Gerard seemed to catch what I was thinking. He began to laugh uproariously.

"Look at this!" He chuckled, "Inexperienced, are we?"

I hung my head involuntarily.

_What is going on?!?_ I screamed in my head, _I am acting like a child!_

"Don't worry, boy." He wiped a tear from his eye, "When we get back, I'll arrange a little get-together for you."

_Well…No!!!_

_I will not tolerate distractions._

"No thank you," I said calmly, "I'm not the type."

"Ah, I see." He nodded gently, "Did the operation hurt?"

"What?"

"When they removed your balls!" He laughed even harder. My face grew hot, and I felt the sudden urge to cut the man in half. But I remained composed.

"My life cannot afford distractions."

For some reason, he stopped laughing. It was as if he immediately understood. Or maybe he was startled by the tone of my voice, and the fact that I truly meant it.

"I won't bother to ask why." Gerard assured me, "But don't do anything that doesn't make you happy."

My assets usually told me such things. That was one of the pitfalls of relying on someone's help. Conversation leads to opening up. Opening up leads to advice and that advice leads to more distractions.

A beeping noise interrupted my thoughts. Gerard looked to one of his instruments and slowed the boat down.

"Ok, this is where it get's tricky." He said. The boat wasn't extraordinarily large, but it was no canoe. "We have to find the sweet spot on the reef, where there are not wrecks, and no obstructions. Once we slip through there, we'll be fine."

Outside, the sun was setting. The water shimmered with an orange light, and cast a warm glow onto the ship. The salty breeze grew colder as the sun's influence was lessened. The clouds above were swirled with different shades of pink. Stars shined dimly behind them, waiting for night to take over.

In the dimming light, the island could be seen like a dark shadow on the shimmering ocean. In the water around it, various parts of sailboats, and even the occasional old-fashioned clipper ship, could be seen protruding from the water's surface. We edged closer and closer towards the sunken ships, until finally we passed between the prow of a modern fishing boat and the mast of an old sailboat. A loud grinding noise emanated from beneath the boat.

"Tight squeeze." Gerard said with a wince.

The island wasn't far off from the reef. Gerard stopped the boat and dropped anchor. He readied and lowered a small dinghy into the water. He climbed down a rope ladder into the boat.

"Come on, boy!" He called to me from the water. I climbed down, with my sheathed sword in hand. "Don't you have a gun? I've run into competitors out here before, and I don't think a sword will be much use."

"I don't use guns." I replied, "Don't worry, I don't need them."

"Whatever you say," He pulled out some oars and began rowing towards the shore.

Water splashed around the dinghy as it rocked with the waves. The sun was creeping lower and lower below the horizon. The gentle roar of the waves could be heard all around us. Gerard turned the boat slightly to avoid a formation of rocks, and then put it ashore.

"Welcome to Fantasy Island!" He said, changing his accent and spreading his arms widely. He smiled like it was a joke.

I didn't get it.

"Is that its name?" I asked him, seriously. He stopped smiling and dropped his arms to his sides.

"No," He said, "It's a joke…You know, the…Aw, never mind."

He pulled the dinghy into the sand to keep it from being carried out by the tide. He picked up a pack from the boat and carried it on his back.

"Let's go." He said. We marched up the beach, towards the thick rainforest. Nestled among the trees was a large stone spire, glimmering yellow as the sun gave its final farewell.

In that twilight hour, we pushed through the wilderness with an old lantern to guide us. Vines hung down from the thick canopy, where large-eyed animals made their homes. We navigated through the dense jungle, and emerged in front of the ancient ruins.

The mere sight of the ruins was breathtaking. Squarely-built buildings, with tall spires, formed a complex network of halls and rooms. Mosses grew everywhere, and where ever a tree could grow, it did so. The entire area was overgrown, some trees blocking entire pathways.

"Well," Gerard said, "Here we are."

We stood at the edge of the area, as if there were a barrier in front of us. Gerard was frozen in place; perhaps fearing what might happen if we crossed the threshold.

I pushed forward, entering crossing that invisible barrier, and entering the ruins themselves.

Gerard remained motionless.

I stopped and turned around.

"You can wait for me at the boat, if you want to." I told him. I tolerated the man's fear because I needed him alive. Without him, leaving the island would prove quite difficult.

He swallowed, still frozen in place. I turned back towards the ruins, and walked further inside. Behind me, I heard footsteps quickly approaching. Gerard walked in beside me.

"I'm curious." He explained, "Too curious."

The man's courage was admirable. Though, as long as he was with me, he would be safe. He cautiously took out his revolver, and held it at the ready.

"Can't be too careful," He said with a chuckle.

We walked through the dark hallways, looking for a way down into the catacombs below. The light from Gerard's lantern seemed to be swallowed whole by the darkness within the ruins. It was as if the darkness itself was alive, trying to consume us.

"I'm getting the creeps," He whispered, "It's like something's watching us."

"There's nothing to be-," I was interrupted by a bloodcurdling scream.

The shriek echoed through the halls of the buildings, and was repeated over and over again.

Gerard's eyes went wide as the scream played back, over and over again. His hand trembled, and he nearly dropped the lantern. The sound of the scream faded away, leaving nothing but a ringing noise in our ears.

Silence returned, and the darkness took on a more ominous feel.

"Holy shit," Gerard said, "At least I didn't crap my pants!"

He giggled at the thought, and we kept on moving.

_It's likely that this place will be guarded by demons._ I thought. _If that's the case, I need to keep a close eye on him._

We finally found a stairway leading down. The tunnel below was even darker than above. It looked the gaping maw of some creature, just waiting for us to fall into its trap.

Slowly, I descended the steps, mindful of man-made traps, or demons. The air down there was stagnant, and was neither warm nor cold. The only sound that penetrated the darkness was the dripping of water. The yellow-hued, stone passageway was lined with pictographs and inscriptions.

Gerard stopped to examine one.

"Well, that doesn't look too fun." He said grimly, pointing to a particular scene. It was etched into the stone, hastily. As if someone had scrawled it onto the wall as a warning. The picture was that of a dragon, swallowing people whole. Its wings were outspread as it stood over what I made out to be lifeless bodies at its feet.

We pressed on, and the tunnels below began to gradually change in style and structure. It changed from a boxy ruin, into a more fluid build. It didn't look natural, but then again, it was drastically different than the rest of the ruins. The stone changed color from a dark yellow, to a shadowy black.

The tunnel curved downward sharply, leading us deeper into the pits of the earth. It winded left and right, until we came to what looked like a stone wall that had been broken into. The rock wasn't shaped by man; it just looked like the wall of a cave that had collapsed onto itself. The opening was big enough to walk through, but only one at a time.

I stepped inside first, followed immediately by Gerard. We were greeted with a large cavern, made of that same black stone. The expansive ceiling was supported by twisted pillars that reached up from the smooth, black floor.

"I don't know if my eyes are playing tricks on me" Gerard whispered to me, "It seems like the shadows are…alive…Moving."

I had dismissed it as my imagination, but I looked again.

He was right.

The shadows in the room seemed to pulsate, like a heartbeat. They shied away from the light as it approached, and quickly replaced it as it retreated. The darkness seemed to swirl around the room, avoiding the light like only an intelligent being can.

Something screamed from the darkness. The high-pitched shriek hurt my ears, and once again echoed through the ruinous caverns.

Another scream came from behind us, and echoed around the room. It took me a moment to realize that the echoes weren't really echoes.

One by one, they appeared. Dozens of sets of glowing red eyes filled the darkness around us. They angrily stared at us from the shadows, bright and unblinking. The screams around us intensified, becoming so loud, that Gerard collapsed to his knees, dropping both the lantern and his gun, to cover his ears.

The lantern still illuminated the area, forming a circle around us, and a barrier against the darkness. I smoothly drew Yamato, which reflected the light from the lantern into a strip of like that was devoured by the living shadows around me.


	19. Noctis

My hidden assailants flirted with the circle of light around us. They didn't seem to be afraid of the light, but they acted like they were unsure about me and my capabilities.

I surveyed the area around me, hoping to find way to illuminate the room, and reveal the true forms of the creatures around me. I saw something on the wall behind me. It was some sort of ledge that ran along the entire outer-wall. I had an idea as to what it was…

I struck at the wall with the flat side of Yamato. As my blade scraped against the wall, bright sparks showered down onto the ledge, igniting the oil inside. The flame spread along the wall quickly, lighting up the room and revealing my attackers.

Demons.

_Naturally._

The demons surrounded us completely, their red eyes still glowing brightly despite the light. They were nothing but shadows. They had looked as if they had a definite shape, but it was composed of nothing but shadow. Shadowy claws were being readied, and dark, yet seemingly strong-muscled, limbs were tensed, ready to attack.

Their haunting screams turned to vicious snarls as the light completed its circuit around the perimeter of the room. Yamato hummed loudly as I stood before my enemies. Gerard recovered and got to his feet, looking around with his eyes wide. He looked over at me, breathing heavily.

"W-What do we do?" He asked me with staggered breaths.

"Just stay down." I instructed him. He nodded to me, dropping to his knees. He picked his gun up off the ground and held it like it was his only defense. Before Gerard even had a chance to aim, one of the demons suddenly split apart. Gerard's mouth dropped open as more and more of the creatures were cut to pieces.

I dashed through the crowd of demons, ignoring their sharp talons and screams of agony. Yamato was but a silver flash, cutting through the incorporeal masses before me. The creatures seemed to be stuck between dimensions. They could kill and be killed by anything in our plane, but their full strength was left behind in their own realm. Regardless of the reason, Yamato was still cutting through them like they were flesh and blood. As the demons died, their shadowy bodies melted, perhaps returning to their own dimension.

Defeating these enemies was all too easy. But it became more difficult when they tried to attack Gerard. He was successful in killing several of the demons that came to slaughter him. His gun was actually quite effective against them. However, it was inevitable that he would run out of ammunition. As soon as I heard his gun click, I blurred towards him to fend off an attacking demon.

I "landed" next to Gerard and, in one fluid motion, spun through the air with my body parallel to the ground, knocked him to the ground with my leg, and swept Yamato in a circle, cutting downward. The demon was sliced cleanly in half.

The remaining demons cowered into the corner of the room. They howled. It was a haunting moan from another world. Their bodies shivered as they screamed, one after another. After a moment, I realized what they were doing.

They were crying.

I felt no pity for them. I felt nothing for them. I simply charged forward and swung Yamato in front of me. My demon blade cut through them, slicing through part of the wall as well. Yamato sang as their bodies collapsed to the floor and melted into the shadowy stone.

The blade was clean and unblemished. Its sweet song still hung in the air. I gently sheathed it, and turned back to Gerard, who was getting up off the ground, rubbing his face

"Th-That," he said to me, "That was amazing!" He looked me up and down in disbelief. I ignored him, and searched for a way to progress further. The light from the oil-fueled fire revealed another tunnel. The flames stopped suddenly as we entered, the lamps ending abruptly, leaving us with nothing but Gerard's lamp to guide us further. The tunnel led into another dark cavern. The weak light from Gerard's lamp barely penetrated the darkness. It seemed as if the abyss was all that lie above out heads.

I stepped forward into the cavern. Suddenly, the room began to light up. Torches that lined the cavern began to light. However, the flame that fed on them was not of this world. It burned black, but gave out a light bright as any normal torch. I immediately knew that it was there. The Seed of Death.

As the torches lit up, I could see just how big the cavern really was. It was immense, with the ceiling hundreds of feet over our heads. The walls and floors were jet-black, made from the same unearthly stone as before. However, in here no vines grew. No mosses, no weeds, no grass.

There was no life in there.

I felt like I was stepping into an alien world, some other dimension. I was the only living thing in that cavern. The room felt odd. Something about it was strange to me, and yet…It also felt like it was familiar.

I shook off the feeling, and motioned Gerard to follow me. After seeing me fight off the demons earlier, he seemed to be back to his normal demeanor. He was confident that I could fight off anything that we came across. Though he carried himself with confidence and bravery, he was still silent. He had now crossed over into a world that few have seen. His concept of reality had been shaken, and left him with plenty to think about.

_Oh well, _I thought. _He'll get over it._

I looked around the room. Most of the room was open and empty. However, in the center of the room there was a stone platform, slightly higher than the rest of the room. In the very center of the platform was a large, polished stone altar. There were beautiful designs on the sides of the altar. They seemed to deify the demons depicted on it.

On the altar was an ornate cushion.

And on the cushion was a small, black seed.

The Seed of Death.

_I found it._

"Stay here," I told Gerard. He nodded his head quickly, suddenly looking concerned. I stepped up towards the altar, mindful of any traps, man-made or otherwise. The platform seemed to be made of the same stone as the rest of the room, but it was polished and smooth. It must have taken decades, maybe even centuries, to get it that way, especially by hand. It looked like black glass. The altar was polished to almost the same degree, and seemed to swallow the light from Gerard's lamp.

I stepped forward. I felt my heart pounding in my chest with excitement. I took another step, and another. Until at last I was within reach of my prize.

I stretched out my arm and opened my hand to take it. Time seemed to slow to a crawl. My destiny was at hand.

All I had to do was take it.

_The ground shook_.

I felt an impact on my chest, and flew back towards the entrance of the cavern. Gerard was immediately at my side, trying to help me get back up.

"What the hell happened?" He asked me as he grabbed my arm to lift me off the ground. I shrugged off his grasp and got up on my own. Gerard raised his lantern.

The darkness had suddenly deepened. The light of Gerard's lamp seemed to be even less effective than before. It only illuminated a few feet around us. The torches around the cavern were nothing more than decoration now. They offered no light to aid us. It was as if something had cast some strange spell on the room, enveloping it in pitch-black darkness.

I heard a low growl. It echoed throughout the entire cavern around us.

I grabbed Gerard's arm and pulled him to the ground. A huge gust of wind could be felt as something large swept across the room, right over our heads.

Something roared, and once again I moved Gerard out of the way. We dove aside, barely escaping yet another attack. This one slammed into the ground where we were.

"Go!" I yelled at Gerard, pointing towards the entrance to the cavern. The torch-fire from the other room could be seen dimly. Gerard immediately bolted for the door and made it into the corridor safely. Whatever was attacking us seemed to be focusing on me.

I looked around me, wondering just where this thing was. I figured that a more direct approach was needed.

"Come out." I said calmly, "Or are you too afraid?"

I heard another low-growl and felt the air around me move. I drew Yamato and sliced through the darkness. The growl turned into a loud roar, and a pained shriek.

The near-palpable darkness seemed to lessen as the screaming continued. I scanned the area around me, searching for the creature. My gaze was met with two large eyes. They burned with a baleful red light. As the darkness continued to lessen, the demon's true shape could be seen.

It was quite large, I had never seen a demon so big. It resembled a dragon, but this creature belonged to no fairy tale. It had sharp talons, and strong-muscled limbs. It had massive wings that it folded on its back. Its scales shimmered with a light somewhat akin to the black torches. A smoky, black aura surrounded it, enveloping its body in the very essence of darkness. Something about the creature nagged at me. I couldn't figure it out, but it seemed familiar.

The beast roared at me in anger, its severed tail was flopping around behind it. I had wounded it.

"You!" The dragon spoke in a deep and booming voice. "You are trespassing on the most sacred ground of the Dark One! Leave now and I will spare your life!"

The dragon's tail continued to spasm behind it. I did not believe the creature was sure that it could even beat me. No demon would show mercy to its enemy.

"I am here for the Seed of Death." I announced to the demon, "Step out of my way, and _I _will spare _your_ life."

The demon stared at me. His red-glowing eyes were unblinking, looking straight into my own. After a few moments, it spoke.

"You will not touch the Seed." He growled, "I will give my very life to defend it!"

The dragon opened its mouth, full of razor-sharp teeth, and a shadowy blast erupted forth. I had little time to react, and I rolled out of the way as fast as I could. The blast impacted on the ground where I had stood, and the resulting explosion filled the room with an echoing boom. The shockwave almost knocked me off balance, but I recovered, and was able to quickly stand up and swing Yamato in a shining arc in front of me. A thin line of energy whined as it sped through the air towards the dragon. The dragon wasn't fast enough to dodge my counterattack. It screamed as both of its hind legs collapsed from under him, severed from the rest of the body. Its legs were cut off so cleanly that no blood came from the wounds. A horrible scream erupted from the creature's mouth, filling the air with an ominous sound. I wasted no time, and immediately jumped towards the beast. I struck downward at the dragon with Yamato as it lay screaming in pain. Yamato cut through the beast's flesh as if it were nothing but air. As my blade sliced through my enemy's body, I flipped myself forward and landed with my back to the creature and the Seed of Death a few steps before me.

I took a step, once again hoping to retrieve the Seed.

But there was a strange sound behind me, like the sound of water sizzling on a hot stove, and turning into steam. I turn slowly towards the seemingly defeated dragon. What I saw was quite surprising. The severed limbs of the demon melted, and rose up into the air as pitch-black smoke. The smoke made its way to the main body of the beast, and joined with the unholy aura surrounding it. Meanwhile, the two halves of its body seemed to pull together, with more smoke sealing the two pieces together. Finally, new limbs burst forth from the old wounds, covered in thick, black blood. Even the tail was re-grown. The demon stood up, its eyes flaring red, and both tooth and claw glistening in the shadow surrounding it.

The demon laughed, the deep sound echoing about the room.

"Did you think it would be that easy?" It asked me. "I will NOT be defeated!"

I examined my enemy, who was more powerful than I originally assessed. The demon regenerated its limbs relatively quickly, and even mended itself when it was cut completely in half. All of this was familiar, but it took me a few seconds to remember where I had seen this beast before. But then it hit me.

"Noctis…" I said aloud. The demon froze, looking me straight in the eye.

"How dare you speak my name, human?" Noctis roared.

That was it…At the library where I found the scroll about the Amulet, I had found a book called "Hosts of the Demonic Realm". One of the creatures I saw was called "Noctis" or "The Noctis Dragon". Noctis was a demon created by Mundus to serve as a captain to one if his armies. This army was a special force, of sorts, and was often used to guard Mundus' most precious treasures. It hadn't occurred to me that they might be guarding the resting place of the Seed of Death.

Noctis did not leave me to my thoughts for long. He swiftly slashed at me with his clawed forearm, causing me to leap backwards away from him. I planted my feet firmly on a wall and pushed off. Noctis didn't even both to move as I cut through his arm. He wasted no time in regenerating it. Before I even landed on the black-glass floor, his arm was fully healed. I threw a blade of energy at him, taking his legs out from under him. I hoped to slow him down at least, but again, he regenerated the limbs nearly instantaneously. I sent a barrage of such attacks, hoping to chop him into pieces. Suddenly the black aura surrounding Noctis spread to the entire room. The darkness diminished after a few seconds, revealing a completely unharmed demon before me.

_What?!? _I thought to myself, _There's no way he could have dodge that!_

Noctis was indeed powerful, and I needed to think of some strategy to defeat him.

I sent another attack towards his neck, but he dodged it with amazing speed.

_Wait! _I thought to myself, _He dodged it!_

I quickly sent another energy blade towards his legs, and instantly teleported myself to his side. I cut him cleanly in half, as I did before, just as his legs came out form under him. Yet again, I saw the world blur around me, and my blade was suddenly pressed up against the demon's immense neck.

Noctis flinched, and stared at me with one glowing red eye. He was so shocked that he could not move or regenerate…or maybe…he was scared.

"That's it, isn't it?" I asked him, as I stood upon his neck, Yamato pressing against his glimmering scales. The dragon didn't speak. "You can regenerate every part of your body…but your head."

Noctis remained silent. Every attack that I threw at him was endured without much of an attempt to dodge. It was as if he was proving that he could not be killed. When I tried attacking his entire body, including his head, he threw up some sort of shield that darkened the whole room. And when I tried to cut off his head before, he dodged it, instead of enduring and regenerating. That is what gave it away.

"Do with me what you will, human." Noctis said, "But your offense will not go unpunished."

I readied Yamato, raising it above my head to finish this pest.

_Wait…_

I stopped myself, a thought passed through my mind like lightning. This demon can be of use to me.

_Great use…_

"Noctis," I said to the demon. He looked up at me, his burning eyes taking on a softer light. "I may have some use for you."

"Never!" He declared. "I was given charge of protecting the Seed with my life. I will never disobey my master."

"You won't have to." I told him.


	20. Favor

I sheathed Yamato and jumped down from the Noctis Dragon's neck. I heard the sound of him regenerating behind me. I feared no attack from him. Noctis was afraid of me, now that I knew his weakness, and the idea of appeasing me without disobeying his orders was the best option he had at the moment. With a rumble, the immense beast got to his feet, once again in one piece.

"What is it that you want?" He no longer addressed me as "human", since I was obviously not. "How could I possibly serve you without disobeying my master?"

My plan wasn't fully formed, but I at least knew what to tell him.

"I need you to come with me," I answered, "Leave the island, and the Seed will never be out of your sight."

The dragon growled deeply as it thought about it. Truly it had no choice. Either it came with me alive, and fulfilled its duties by protecting the Seed…Or I would kill it and take the Seed anyway.

"Very well." He said at last. "But what of my minions?"

"I'll find some use for them." I replied, "But I _do_ have one problem."

"Yes?"

I was a little upset at myself for sounding like such an idiot, but I couldn't help myself.

"You're rather big, and you might attract attention."

A loud rumble filled the room. Noctis was laughing.

"You know my name and how to kill me, but you don't know any of my abilities?"

In my mind's eye, I saw myself cutting of his head on the spot. But I controlled myself.

"Allow me to demonstrate" He offered. To my surprise, he started to melt. Tooth and claw, wing and limb, his entire body seemed to melt into a pool of shadow. The shadow crept along the floor towards me, and seemed to meld with my own shadow. In a moment, I could no longer tell that my own shadow was any different. But I could feel his presence, as if we were somehow connected.

"I am here," Noctis said, his voice was loud and clear.

"Where?" I asked, "In my shadow?"

"Yes," He answered, "And your mind, no one can hear me but you."

_Really? _I asked myself, _That is quite an advantage. I could find some use for that as well_.

"Indeed you could," Noctis responded to my thoughts.

"You can hear my thoughts, too, I assume."

"Yes, but I will not delve any deeper, for I am as vulnerable in this form as you are. If something went wrong, we'd both die."

"Then I will be careful as well." I said, "How will the others come?"

"The same way," He explained, "They will not harm you either."

"Good," I replied, "But if I sense any deception or danger to myself, I _will_ kill you."

"As you wish." was all he said in reply.

I turned towards the black altar, and took the next step in my journey towards ultimate power. Nothing stopped me this time, and I could easily reached out and take the Seed of Death in my hand. The black seed was the size of an almond, and of similar shape. But it was black as death, and somewhat deformed.

I picked it up, and instantly felt a heavy weight on my body.

"What??" I asked in surprise.

"The Seed is Death," Noctis told me, "And like Death, it's a light thing to look at, but weighs your very soul down when it is close to you."

"How poetic." I said dryly. The Seed didn't weigh me down too much, but it was more than any mortal could have sustained. I reached into my inside jacket pocket and pulled out a pouch. I placed the Seed in the pouch then replaced it in my pocket.

"Let's get going."

We departed from the cavern, and made our way outside. As we walked through the halls and tunnels, dozens of those shadow-demons came to us. They melted to the ground in the same way that Noctis did, and merged with my shadow.

More and more joined with us, until we finally made it to the beach. I hadn't seen Gerard at all, so I could only guess that he had ran out of the ruins entirely, back to the safety of his boat. It wasn't long before we made it to the beach, where Gerard was waiting. I was surprised to see that he hadn't rowed out to his anchored ship, but was instead waiting by the dinghy, deep in thought. As soon as he saw me, he stood up and ran towards me.

"You're alive!" he exclaimed, "Damn, I was worried that I'd have to leave you here!"

"It's good that you didn't," I said, "I got what I came for." I walked to the dinghy and kicked it into the water.

"Good." He replied, "Let's get the hell out of here." He jumped in the boat, picked up the oars, and rowed us out to his boat.

Once we got on board, he went to cabin and got us turned around. Just as before, he squeezed through the reef, and brought us to the open sea.

"So…" he started, "What happened? What attacked us?"

I didn't feel like answering. I wanted to think about my plan, and perfect it in my mind. I told Noctis to stay out of my thoughts for now, too. But I knew Gerard wouldn't let me stay silent.

"Demons." Was all I said.

"Demons?" He asked, incredulously. "You're shitting me!"

"No." I said quietly, "I am not."

"Hell, I would have preferred ghosts!" he laughed, "Well, whatever they were, you sure kicked their asses!" He took a swig of beer, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"You know," he continued, "You saved my life more than once. I owe you a night with a pretty lass _now!_"

I blushed again, the memory of my last encounter was fresh in my mind, and more frightening that the shadow demons that now shared my very presence.

Noctis laughed in my head.

_Shut up!_ I yelled in my mind.

"No, thank you."

"Well, I thank you anyway." Gerard said to me. "This'll make some good stories to keep people away from the island, and my business!"

Gerard was excited, and unafraid. But he was obviously relieved that we had left the island. It didn't take long for us to reach the port where we had originally departed from. Gerard jumped out of the boat and tied it to the docks. I followed him, and pulled out the money that I owed him.

"Here you go." I handed him the stack of cash, "As we agreed."

He took the money hesitantly.

"Well, you saved my life." He said, "I should be repaying _you" _He put the money in his pocket. "But since _you_ were the reason I was out there in the first place, I'll take it!"

He laughed loudly and offered his hand.

"Goodbye, friend." I said, "I hope you find what you're looking for."

We shook hands and went our separate ways.

Encounters with men like him were rare. I had often pondered how I had met so many honorable men in my life. Humans, but honorable nonetheless. It was ironic that my ambitions would likely lead to his death. As honorable as he was, I couldn't give up my goal. But I still feared that I was straying…

_No…even the most innocent life is worth nothing to me. I only let him live because he was useful. _

The thought calmed me. It was all part of the plan, and I was not straying from it.

I had one more errand before I went back to the warehouse. On the edge of town, there was a hospital, derelict and practically in ruins. It was the perfect place to begin my work.

A huge iron gate greeted me when I arrived. I jumped over easily, and made my way into the building. The walls were covered in graffiti, and the windows were boarded up. The front door was missing, possibly torn off its hinges by some vandal.

The outside did not interest me, but the inside did. I made my way through the maze of hallways, searching for a suitable place. It was a while before I found what I needed.

I must have been an old auditorium, or perhaps a gym inside the hospital. The ceiling was high, and the ground was made of concrete. It was quite suitable for my purpose.

"Noctis" I said aloud.

"Yes" He answered me.

"I need you to stay here," I told him, "and guard the Tree."

"The Tree?" He asked me, incredulously. He laughed, understanding. "As you wish."

I gasped as I felt as if my breath had been stolen from my very body. A tenebrous mass tore itself from my shadow, and made its way along the floor. Noctis emerged before me, his towering form taking up a good portion of the room. I caught my breath, having never before experienced such an odd feeling.

"Do whatever you have to for it to grow. I'll need some of your minions to stay with me."

"Of course, I'll be able to speak with you through them" He said to me, and continued "The Seed lives on death and despair. I'll find something to feed it."

"Good." I was pleased that it didn't feed on something more difficult to find.

"I'll also need your demons to do one more thing…"

* * * * *

I began my journey back to the warehouse, walking in the cold night until the sun peeked over the horizon. The warmth was lost on me, as my thoughts came to Dante. He was in this city, and I was about to confront him.

_But first…I need a favor_

Back at the warehouse, I made my way to the telephone in my room. Next to the phone was a notepad with a phone number on it. I dialed it, and waited for the answer.

_Ring_

_Ring_

"Hello?" a voice answered.

"Hello, Cecil." I said.

"Gilver?" Cecil asked in surprise. "Is that you?"

"Yes," I responded, "Any news?"

He either coughed, or chuckled. I couldn't tell which.

"Yeah…I heard about a bloodbath in our friends' garage…" His voice was grim, yet I could detect a hint of amusement. "Good work."

"I need that favor now."


	21. Deadly Dance

I shifted Yamato in my left hand. The smooth sheathe was sliding in my grip. I adjusted my bandages to make sure that I was not recognizable, and straightened my black coat and the blue vest underneath. I began to pace back and forth, impatiently waiting for the man I was supposed to meet.

I was at one of Cecil's "summer homes" in Newport. It was more like a mansion, in reality. Cecil apparently never visited the place, and he kept few attendants there for maintenance and cleaning. He had inherited it from his father, who had died ten years prior. The house was beautiful, though. It was just outside of town, in the richer part of the county. It had white marble staircases, with ornate railings, and pretty much every adornment you could think of. Tapestries, fireplaces, statues and busts littered the mansion.

After nearly an hour of waiting, I was finally joined by the man who would introduce me to the mercenary world.

He walked into the entrance hall where I was waiting. He was short in stature, and wore a cheap suit and trench-coat. He had a face like a rat, and his nose even twitched like a rat's would.

"Sorry for keeping ya waitin'" He said to me as he closed the door behind him. "You know how it is. One guy keeps you a minute longer than he should, and the lateness snowballs."

"Indeed." I said curtly.

"Ah, well you _must_ be Gilver, right?" He walked up to me, ignoring my impatience. "That's a fancy sword ya got there. Can I see?" He reached down to grab it. Irritated, I shoved the hilt into his gut…as gently as I felt like doing at the moment.

His eyes widened to the size of tea cups.

"I'll take that as a 'no'." He said between staggered breaths.

"Let's go." I said, and walked out the door. He followed, warily, and showed me to a Rolls Royce parked outside. The driver opened the door for the both of us to climb in. It was a fancier car than I'd expect of this man.

"Classy car, eh? Cecil bought it for me a while back." He said, smiling nervously. I just stared out the window.

"We seem to have gotten off on the wrong foot here…" He said. "My name is Enzo. Enzo Ferrino."

I didn't respond. Enzo was a middle-man, and was just meant to be somewhat of a letter of recommendation for me to the mercenary world. Cecil called him up and practically ordered him to get me in. Enzo seemed to sense my irritation, and stayed quiet for most of the trip.

After about a ten minute drive, we arrived in the slums of Newport. The city streets were littered with trash and steam rose up from the sewers below, dissipating into the night sky. The moon hung unusually low, and the stars where drowned out by the city lights.

It wasn't long before we arrived at our destination. It was the bar called "Bobby's Cellar" where Dante apparently spent much of his time.

_Dante_

The thought of him infuriated me…But a small glimmer of hope sprang forth in my mind.

_What if he joins me?_ I asked myself, _What if he is truly sorry for abandoning our mother? What if he wants to help me gain this power?_

_NO! _I yelled in my head. Dante had abandoned my mother to death, I could never forgive him. He would abandon me in the same way.

Anger raged inside me, rejuvenated by these thoughts. As soon as the car stopped, I opened the door and got out. Enzo came after me, and caught me by the arm. I stopped without looking back. He got the idea, and let me go.

"You can't just barge in there, you know?" he said, "Let me handle this please? Cecil called me for a reason. Wait here."

He straightened his coat and walked down the small staircase in front of us. He opened the door to the bar, loud voices and drunken laughing could be heard from within. He slipped through the door, and disappeared inside. I descended the stairs, and waited beside the door.

A minute passed by, and I heard Enzo's voice call out to me from inside.

"Hey! You can come on in now!"

I opened the door and walked in. It was a pretty typical-looking bar, with mercenaries crowding the tables and counters. Some had mugs of beer in their hands, some had shot glasses, full of whiskey, and a few others were smoking cigars. But they were _all_ staring at me.

I looked around from under my bandages. Enzo stood in the middle of the room, facing the mercenaries.

"This is Gilver." He announced. "I'm told he's a man, but who can tell with all those bandages?"

Laughter erupted from the mercenary crowd before me. I felt no embarrassment.

"He doesn't talk much, "He continued, "But he's looking for work as a mercenary…Someone told me he could put you all outta business."

The room fell silent. Hands reached for guns hidden under tables, and eyes were fixed on me, waiting for me to make the wrong move. I waited in silence for a moment, then spoke.

"I ask one thing."

The silence was practically deafening. No one was breathing. It was perfectly silent.

"I want to fight the strongest man here." I looked around me, searching through them. Dante had to be somewhere. "Let my actions be my resume'"

I drew Yamato quickly, leaving that sweet note hanging in the air.

"What do you say?" I pointed my sword at the crowd, scanning the tables, and chairs. The mercenaries were confident, and bravely stared me down. Only one of them had his attention on something else.

That man sat at a table alone, gnawing at a chicken leg. His black, fingerless gloves were dripping with grease, and the table in front of him had a pile of discarded chicken bones.

He wore a long, red leather coat, with silver buckles and black accents. His vest was leather as well, and sported many silver clasps in the place of a zipper. His pants and boots were also black, and were nearly as messy as his hands. His most prominent feature was his silver-white hair.

_Dante_

"You." I said aloud to him as I walked over, "I believe you're the strongest one here."

Dante chewed on his food for a moment. He swallowed and flashed me a smile, grinning despite his face being covered in greasy chicken. He wiped his face with the back of his gloves and picked up another leg with his right hand.

"I'm in the middle of dinner," He said with his usual cocky tone, "Go sit down and think it over, newbie."

He twirled the chicken leg that was in his left hand, mocking my own brandishing of my sword.

I promptly lashed out with Yamato, slicing the chicken leg cleanly right above his hand. Dante didn't even flinch, but he stopped eating and slowly turned to look at the leg in his left hand.

"It should be easier to eat like that," I said to him, mockingly. He tossed the leg aside and looked up at me, his blue eyes staring into my own.

"That's pretty good, newbie." He said to me, smiling. He stood up, wiping his hands on his pants. "Its about time someone good with a sword came along." He reached behind him, and picked up an unusually large sword.

Rebellion.

I smiled faintly.

The sword was just as I had remembered it, though perhaps a little longer. The blade was not nearly as big as it was when my father held it, but it was still large. It was perhaps four feet long, and four of five inches at its widest point on the blade. The skeleton on the cross-guards was the same, with its closed mouth and horns, and the cross-guards themselves were angled towards the blade.

As soon as he picked up Rebellion, the bar patrons grabbed the tables and chairs and moved them into a circle around the two of us. Each one of them was practically pressed against the wall, giving us as much room as we needed.

I readied Yamato, commanding the space between Dante and myself. Dante was relaxed, with his sword at his side. We circled each other, guessing our opponent's next move.

The bar patrons were eating up the tension. Many of them were smiling, knowingly.

Without warning, I struck out at Dante. He blocked it with the flat of his blade, and knocked it out of the way. He slashed at my right side, but I deflected it to the ground. Our blades were but blurs in the air as we continued the deadly dance. Each sword stroke was blocked or countered. The sound of ringing steel filled the room. Sparks flew from our colliding blades, and the grins around the room were ever-widening.

Dante swept Rebellion upwards, knocking Yamato out of my hand. My blade stuck into the ceiling, with its bandage-wrapped hilt pointing straight down. Dante stopped, and laughed.

"Aw…" He mocked me, "Sorry about that! Are you gonna go home and cry to your mommy now?"

I said nothing in reply, but instead charged right at him, weaponless. He slashed at me with Rebellion, perhaps hoping to take off my head. I ducked, and swept his legs out from under him. As he fell to the floor, I kicked Rebellion out of his hand, sending it flying towards a wall. It stuck itself into the wall right between too mercenaries. They looked at each other over the blade, and shrugged.

Dante scoffed at me, and smiled confidently.

"Well I guess we're even!" He assumed a fighting stance and beckoned me with his right hand. "Come on!"

I darted forward, meeting his confidence with my own. I swiped my left leg at his side, he blocked it with his right arm, and struck at me with his left. I dropped to the floor to dodge it, and tried to once again sweep his legs out from under him. He jumped, and kicked down at me, I rolled out of the way.

Dante's form lacked finesse. It was comparable to that of a street-brawler, and was very direct. The contrast could be seen by the onlookers as we continued our fight. Dante's brawling against my near-elegant form.

"Say, you're pretty good." Dante said, but oddly without his usual sarcasm.

We blocked, and dodged, again and again. Just as with the sword, no real blow had landed…until…

I kicked him square in the chest, sending him flying back into an empty table. Mugs of beer tipped over and spilled their contents all over his hair and jacket. Frustrated, he stood up, wiping the liquid off of his face.

Suddenly, he seemed focused, and his stance altered. He was definitely more serious now, and it reflected in his defensive stance. His eyes stared into mine, and didn't look away. We stared each other down for what felt like minutes. Enzo was sitting at the sidelines, looking very excited. He reached for a beer, but accidently knocked it off the table.

Slowly, it fell to the ground.

Dante lunged at me, throwing his fist in front of him. I dodged, and countered, jabbing away at his side. He took the hits, but threw an uppercut towards my jaw. Before it could connect, I manipulated it to the side and knocked him back with my other elbow.

He slid back, towards his sword. I looked around me and found Yamato stuck in the ceiling behind me. Dante pulled Rebellion out of the wall just as I jumped up to grab my blade. We turned towards each other, and slashed with our swords.

The mug hit the floor, shattering into a dozen pieces.

Dante's blade and my own were locked together, both of us pushing forward. Yamato against Rebellion, Dante's strength against my own.

He kicked at my leg, catching me off guard. We pushed off, and once again stared each other down.

"Come on," He said to me. "Is that all you got?"

I smiled.

Dante's left hand twitched, I could tell he was looking for a new way to fight. My suspicion was confirmed when he drew a handgun and aimed it at my face.

A large man stepped between us, throwing his hands in the air.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" He yelled, "Enough!"

I looked at the man inquisitively. He was a heavy-set man, likely in his fifties. He wore a stained apron, and carried himself with authority.

"If you mess up my bar any more, I'll ban _both_ of you!" He told the two of us, "Swords, fine. Fists, great. But no guns!"

Dante spun his gun in his hand and holstered it. The man walked over to the counter and picked up two shot glasses.

"There's only one way to settle this," He set the shot glasses down on a nearby table. Dante immediately understood, grabbed a chair and sat down at the table.

"Is that it?" I asked him, cocking my head to the side, "Do you forfeit?"

"No way!" Dante answered, "Bobby here just changed the rules."

The man must have been the bar's owner, since he shared the name-

I didn't have much time to reflect on that, since the crowd grabbed me and shoved me towards the table. They sat me down in a chair and placed the shot glass in front of me. The crowd formed another ring around us, cheering us on. Bobby walked over with a large keg, shouting like a boxing announcer.

"Here in Bobby's Cellar, how do we settle fights?"

"WE DRINK!" The crowd shouted.

"Drink what?!?" Bobby asked them.

"BOOZE!" The cheered. Bobby scoffed.

"Booze? I've got oceans of the stuff! What do you want??"

"BOBBY'S VODKA!" Pandemonium ensued. The crowd went into a frenzy, and I was left quite confused. I never had participated in any drinking at all, and I certainly didn't know much about the forms of alcohol other than beer.

I figured it was a drinking game, like the kind I had observed at various pubs and bars around the city. This particular one was somewhat of a duel. Whoever drank the most, without passing out, won.

Bobby stood next to us, and set his hand down on the table.

"Ready…" He said. I readied my glass awkwardly, still staring Dante down.

"Set…." The crowd was finally silent.

"Go!" Bobby slapped his hand on the table and backed off. The crowd started to cheer yet again.

Dante started off like he was drinking water, drinking one shot and going for another.

I tried the same, but coughed as the liquid burned my throat. I slowly finished the rest of it, and winced as it continued to burn.

I could hear the people around me growing impatient. Dante was drinking faster than ever, but I was unused to this method of combat.

"Too slow!" A man shouted behind me

Someone grabbed me from behind, and pulled me to the ground. Dozens of people held me down as someone forced a funnel into my mouth. They began to pour the burning liquid down my throat, nearly drowning me in the fiery fluid. I felt my strength failing me, and my mind wandering. It wasn't so bad, after all. I felt peaceful, and decided that I might as well drink.

The crowd backed up from me, giving me a look at Dante. He just finished his 30th glass and stood up, cheering along with the crowd.

"Tony! Tony!" The crowd chanted, "You are the greatest!"

"For _that_?" he asked humorously, "I'm doing the whole keg!!"

He climbed onto the table, grabbed the half-empty keg of vodka and poured it into his mouth. He emptied the entire thing, and threw it aside. He jumped off the table, and Bobby went to his side.

"The winner!" He shouted, grabbing Dante's arm and holding it up in the air, like an announcer at a boxing ring.

"Tony! Tony!" They continued to chant.

The sound of the chanting grew quieter, and the room faded into darkness.


	22. The Oz Club

I awoke to an odd buzzing sound. My eyes felt heavy, I could hardly open them. Had a splitting headache, and I could barely move. When I finally got my eyes to open, I saw the source of the buzzing: flies. I looked around me, I was in a dumpster.

_I hate dumpsters_

I sat up, wiping the garbage off of my sleeve. It was daylight, and the bright, morning sun shined down on my face. I put my hand to my head in pain. I had never had a headache like that.

_Why do people drink?_

I jumped out of the dumpster, feeling a little lighter than usual. I checked my pockets, and found that all of my money was missing. Thankfully, Yamato was still in my possession, as was my amulet. Anything of no value was just tossed into the dumpster with me. I gathered my belongings and shuffled to the warehouse to recover.

It took me till mid-afternoon to feel better. I decided to wander around town, and listen for rumors, and other news. Apparently, people were seeing strange shadows around town. Some people were going missing, and others were found torn to shreds.

I smiled to myself. Noctis was doing his job, or part of it at least. I couldn't tell if he was doing what I requested from what I was hearing.

So I made my way to Bobby's Cellar, about an hour after nightfall. I walked to the door, and it opened suddenly. It was Dante.

"Its all yours, newbie." He said to me, without a hint of sarcasm. I cocked my head, confused. "Let's just say its an apology for last night."

He left, disappearing into the darkness. I watched him walk away for a few moments, then turned into the bar. The patrons ignored me for the most part. Some laughed, obviously remembering what happened the night before. I sat at the counter, next to an older man. He had a tired look about him, and stared into his mug of beer. I could smell the rotten hops. He puffed on a cigarette, and took a drink.

He noticed me sitting next to him, and smiled.

"I heard about last night," he said, "Tough break. They do that to all the new guys."

"Do they now?" I asked.

"Yep," he took another drink, "You don't even want to know what they did to Tony."

_Tony?_ I thought for a second, _that's right…Dante._

"Tony is a skilled man, isn't he?" I asked him out loud. "especially for one so young."

"Yeah," He answered, "and a good business partner."

"You're partners?"

"That's right," He took a puff of his cigarette, "The name's Grue."

"Gilver," I told him.

"Odd name," He pointed out, "for an odd person. What's with the bandages? And the sword?"

"I was in a fire," my response was almost automatic now. People often asked me that. "my sword is somewhat of an heirloom."

"I see." He finished off his beer, "I heard you're good with it, perhaps as good as Tony."

"Perhaps better." I said curtly.

"Maybe," he responded, "but I've seen him take on more than just people."

"What?" I played innocent.

"Don't tell the other guys…I don't wanna scare them, and I know it won't scare you. But a couple nights ago…Tony and I were on a job…

"We were hired to protect a mob boss who was in a lot of trouble. He had to get out of the country, and had to do it fast. We got paid fifty-large upfront. We didn't need much more than that, though we were offered more. So when we ran into…old friends…We ran off."

He paused to puff on his cigarette, then continued.

"We came back to find the mob boss dead, and everyone else who was "protecting" him. We were looking around when I thought I saw a survivor. I went to go help him, but then I realized that his head was practically half-blown-off!"

Grue shook his head, "Tony just laughed. The thing looked like it grew claws, and attacked him. Tony grabbed the thing with his _bare hands_ and pummeled it to death. I couldn't even move! I was scared shitless. More and more of those things showed up, and all I could do was watch Tony destroy them all with that sword."

Grue sighed, looking back down into his glass.

"So you can imagine that my perception of reality is a little shaky at the moment."

_That's it._

Noctis had been sending his minions to keep Dante busy. At the same time, he was strengthening our forces. The shadow demons had the ability to possess the bodies of the dead, and use them for their own purposes. A fact I was quite happy to discover.

"That's unusual." I said.

"I'll say..." He gave his glass to Bobby to refill. "But I've got more real things to worry about now."

"Like what?"

"Tony has enemies," He put out his cigarette in a nearby ashtray, "Obviously. One of them was "Mad Dog" Denvers. He was a member of what's called the "Oz Club".

Bobby overheard and joined the conversation.

"The Oz Club is full of drug dealers and crime bosses." Bobby explained to me, "They're all part of their own little club."

"If one of them goes down," Grue elaborated, "the others will kill anyone involved in it."

"That's not good news for us of course." Bobby said, "We can't have that kind of attention around here."

"So that's why Tony left, right?" I asked them. Bobby nodded.

Enzo walked into the bar. Bobby and Grue glared at him. He put his hands up defensively.

"Hey! Don't stop on _my_ account!" He said, "I'm here for a drink, not for work!"

"Mad Dog held some sort of vendetta against Tony," Grue told me, "He literally went after him 100 times. Obviously his luck finally ran out this last time, and he ended up looking at his own back."

_Odd…_ I thought to myself, _Dante doesn't strike me as the kind of person to kill someone like that._

"It wasn't like that," I heard Noctis' voice in my head, "The man he killed was possessed by one of my minions."

_I see…_

Noctis was keeping close tabs on Dante, just as I instructed. Dante would be too busy dealing with the demons to notice much else.

"Where is he now?" I asked them. Bobby shrugged.

"Knowing Tony," Grue said, "He's probably trying to find the Oz Club before they find him."

"Ha!" Enzo laughed, "Why don't ya check them out, Gilver? You might be able to collect some bounties on them with those skill of yours!"

At that, I stood up and walked out of the bar, leaving the three confused about my intent, and whether I took Enzo seriously. I quickly made my way around the city, looking in other bars, asking for any information on the Oz Club. I was purposely sloppy in my delivery, and talked much too loudly.

I left another bar and walked out into the street. I heard something behind me, like footsteps. I immediately tricked myself over to the source of the sound, and found myself face-to-face with a group of thugs. They looked at me, wide-eyed. They reached for their weapons, and before they could even put their hands into their coats, four out of five of them screamed in agony. Four arms fell to the ground, spurting forth blood. Yamato sang, and cut off the screams, silencing the empty streets once again. The sole survivor stared at me, shivering and whimpering. I sheathed my sword, and folded my arms in front of me.

"Where are they?" I asked him. The group had obviously overheard me asking about the Oz Club. They probably worked for the higher-ups in the club.

"W-W-Who?" He stuttered, "I don't know what you mean."

Yamato came out in a flash, and pressed against his neck. He froze in place, not even daring to breathe. I looked at him intently.

"Where are they?" I asked again, "The members of the Oz Club."

The man's face was glistening with sweat, and his body started to shake with fear. He swallowed; Yamato cut him slightly, causing a tiny rivulet of blood to make its way down his throat.

"They're at the bank," He said. I pull Yamato back slightly to allow him to speak. "The one downtown, ya know?"

I sheathed Yamato, and turned around, leaving the man there without a word. He collapsed to the ground, his fear taking its toll. The bank was a long way away, and I needed to get there before Dante. If this club was any good, they had Dante followed, too.

I immediately teleported myself up to the rooftops. The buildings weren't especially tall, no more than ten stories in this area. It was much faster to trick towards the bank from up there. I set off, teleporting every second or two, from one building to the next. I covered the distance in a little over a minute, and found myself in the clean streets of the downtown business district.

The bank the man had spoken of stood right before me. I had heard whispers about this back being a front for some shady business, so I was reasonably certain that this was the right one. I walked up to the glass doors and went inside. I was greeted by a couple of guards in black suits. They had automatic sub-machine guns hidden in their coats. They tried to stop me there, but I sliced off both their heads at once. Yamato barely made a sound, as if perhaps it knew I should be quiet.

There was a staircase leading up a couple of floors. I made my way up, hoping to find the men I was looking for. On the second floor, I heard the sound of laughing, then the sound of a cork popping out of a bottle of champagne. I opened the door, gently.

The laughing continued, until I stepped into the room. The men paused, staring at me. The man pouring the champagne froze, with his mouth open and champagne overflowing in the glass.

The men composed themselves, and a man approached me with irritation clearly showing in his expression.

"Who are you?" He asked, "What do you want?"

"Is this the Oz Club?" I asked, getting straight to the point. "Who are you?"

"Yes," He answered, "I'm Jonathan Dereks. I know who you are."

"Oh really?"

"Yes," he replied, "Gilver? The new merc over at Bobby's Cellar?"

I said nothing, not caring if he knew my alias. If he knew my real name, it might have been a problem.

"We had thought you might have been the one who killed Denvers." He explained to me, "You use a sword, just like Tony Redgrave. Denvers was killed by a sword, among other things."

"If you don't mind, I'm short on time." I told him, "I need you to do something for me."

"If you're looking for a job application, talk to Geoff over there." He pointed at a muscular man, who looked like nothing more than a henchman, "If not, what can I do for you?"

I put my answer in the simplest of terms.

"You can die."

He laughed uproariously and the entire room followed in suit. Their laughter cut off short as they caught sight of my shadow. The lights in the room created multiple shadows from one person, save me. My lone shadow was cast on a nearby wall, and seemed to swirl and grow.

Their eyes grew wide as they noticed the clawed shapes reaching out of it. Red eyes glared back at them, eager to tear into their flesh. The men backed up, and pulled weapons from their holsters.

"What the hell are you?!?" Dereks yelled. He pulled out a large, silver revolver and aimed it at me.

The shapes tore free from my own shadow, leaving me slightly drained. The demons closed in on their prey and shrieked ominously. The men immediately fired off their weapons, but fear quickly overtook them and slowed their trigger fingers.

The shadow-demons overwhelmed the men, filling the room with screams.

* * * *

The moon hid itself behind the clouds, darkening the night. A man approached the bank and stopped before it, sensing something wrong.

"Daaaaaaaaaaaaaanteee" a chorus of voices called out from the blackness.

He entered the building anyway, searching for someone. He immediately moved to the stairs and began to ascend.

He ran up the steps, but he began to breathe heavily, and started to talk instead. He slowed down even further, until he fell to his knees, exhausted.

Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaanteeee" the voices repeated.

He pushed himself, climbing up the stairs with all his strength. The interior of the bank began to change, the walls looking twisted and distorted. A perverted form of what they once were.

He made his way to the upper room as quickly as he could. As he reached the door, he stood up and walked in.

"Holy shit" He said. He walked around, putting his hands into the pockets of his red coat.

Bodies littered the floor. Blood soaked into the tan carpeting. Ragged pieces of flesh hung from the light fixtures above. The coppery scent of blood filled the room.

The lights began to dim. And the man immediately reached for a pair of pistols holstered at his lower back. He aimed his bootleg guns at the deepening darkness around him.

Dark demons emerged from the shadows, their glowing eyes fixed upon the lone man. As soon as he caught sight of them, the man lowered his guns.

"So.." He said, "It wasn't the vodka playing tricks on me. You demon bastards really _are_ here."

He aimed his guns again and quickly opened fire. The guns fired impossibly fast, and it wasn't long before the click of the empty guns could be heard.

The man holstered the guns, and reached behind his right shoulder. He drew a large sword, and began to hack his way through the attacking creatures. Shadowy limbs were chopped off, and demonic bodies fell onto the corpses below them and melted into nothingness.

The remaining demons stopped their assault, cautious of this powerful foe.

"C'mon!" The man taunted them, "Let's go!"

The demons backed up into a corner, afraid.

"Ok! I won't keep you waitin' then!"

He lunged at them, laughing almost gleefully. His powerful strokes with the sword cut through multiple enemies at once. He jumped and dodged, avoiding the razor-sharp claws of his assailants.

With one final stab, he thrust his sword into the chest of the final demon, who screamed loudly as death took it from this world.

The man calmly replaced his sword on his back.

I clapped slowly, and walked into view.

"Well done, Tony." I stopped clapping. "Well done."

"How long have you been there?" Tony asked me, "What did you see?"

"All of it."

"Even me kicking demon ass?"

"If those were truly demons," I answered, "Then yes."

"What are you doing here?"

"Enzo asked me to look into the Oz Club" I explained, stretching the truth a bit, since Enzo was obviously joking. "I think he was going to ask you…but…"

"I see," He bent over to examine the bodies of the men scattered about the floor, "I am not sure if the demons did this…But it's too nasty to be human's work. Why would demons attack _these_ guys?"

"Hmm…" Tony looked at me, then my sword at my side.

"Was this you?" He asked me. I shook my head.

"I got here just after you did," I lied, "Right when those things showed up."

"Speaking of which," He said, "Ya kept your cool around them. I admire that. Even Grue wet his pants when he saw them."

"That doesn't mean I didn't feel fear" I made my lie more convincing. "The right amount of fear can keep you alive."

"Well said, dude." He walked up to me and patted me on the back "How 'bout we go over to Bobby's Cellar and get some drinks!"

"If its vodka, no thanks…My head still hurts from last time…"


	23. Merciless Justice

We went to the bar and had our drinks with the rest of the mercenaries there. Bobby, Grue, Tony and I were all at the same table, enjoying a few good stories.

It was the perfect way to lull all of them into a false sense of security. But I found myself telling a few stories of my past exploits, leaving out some of the fantastic details, however. It was one of the few times I willingly drank, and I was actually starting to enjoy myself.

"So then Grue says" Tony continued his story, "'Look out!' In this girly voice, and I turn around to find the barrel of a gun practically kissing me on my nose."

"More like making out with you," Grue cut in. Tony waved his hand dismissingly.

"Anyways!" He went on, "The man holdin' it pulled the trigger, but it was empty. So I kicked him in the balls and said: 'Load it next time, bitch!'"

"Oh, oh!" Grue interrupted again, "Then these other guys start coming at us, and Tony takes out his sword. He starts smacking them around with the flat of the blade. He's all like: 'Don't make me use the pointy end!' The _whole_ group pisses their pants. LITERALLY!

Everyone within ear-shot laughed loudly. Tony put his hands up, in mock-defense. He spoke in a joking falsetto.

"'Don't hurt me! Don't hurt me!' they cried!" Tony laughed, "I don't know what they were so worried about. I don't kill people."

"Yeah," Bobby smiled, "Mercy's become a new fad around here."

"Why's that?" I asked. Grue puffed on his cigarette, and blew the smoke in mine and Tony's direction. We both coughed, and Tony waved the smoke away. Grue smiled, teasingly.

"'Cause if you don't kill the guy, he may just cause problems again." Bobby answered, "That means more money for ya."

"And Tony here has made a name for himself." Grue explained, "Sort of like a prodigy of sorts. He's every newbie's hero, and every veteran's favorite son."

"Unlike Bobby here," Tony grinned, "who's _everyone's_ pain in the ass!"

The mercenaries giggled like school children.

"Har Har," Bobby said, taking the joke well, "I think I'm gonna double my prices now!"

"Heh, you're lucky all the middle-men come here." Tony joked, "Your sundaes are the only good thing on the menu! Speaking of which…Gimme another one!"

Bobby rolled his eyes and stood up. He pushed through the crowd of people to make Tony's sundae.

"Aw, dude." Tony told me, "I _love_ Strawberry Sundaes!"

He was practically drooling over it. It was disgusting. Or rather, I thought so until Bobby brought a small, glass dish to the table. It was piled high with vanilla ice-cream and covered in whipped-cream. Strawberries lined the entire dish, and were splashed with a small amount of chocolate syrup.

It was the most delicious looking thing I had ever seen.

Bobby may have looked unassuming, but he was a culinary genius.

Of course, I shook the thought off, dismissing it as a distraction. I wasn't there to enjoy desserts. I was there to do research, and buy time for my plan to come to fruition.

Tony immediately dug into his frozen treat, practically smearing it all over his face. Grue just continued to smoke, as if he was used to this. I stared at Tony in shock. He noticed, and paused.

"What?" he asked with his mouth full. He had whipped-cream on his nose, and strawberries smeared all around his mouth.

"You look like a clown," I pointed out.

"Better the clown than the mummy." It was an almost rehearsed retort. Typical.

The rest of the men chuckled, as if they were familiar with his quirks.

"Hey, Tony." Bobby chimed in, "What're you doing tomorrow night?"

Tony looked around, cautiously. He buried is face in the sundae again.

"I seem to recall hearin' that you were doin' somethin'" Bobby continued. Tony ignored him. Grue smiled, and I was confused.

"He's taking Jessica out tomorrow night." Grue explained. The bar "ooh'ed" mockingly. I could see that Tony's face went red, even through the strawberries smeared over it.

"Shut up! Dammit!" Tony pushed the empty dish into the middle of the table.

"Hey, hey!" Bobby grabbed the dish from him, "Don't' _dish_ it if you can't take it!"

"Very punny, you sick bastard…" Tony laughed it off.

"I try, I try." Bobby took the dish away, pushing back through the crowd. I leaned over to Grue.

"Jessica? I asked him, quietly.

"My daughter." He answered, grinning. "She's helped out a lot since her mother died. So I think she deserves a night out. It might as well be with someone I trust."

"I see."

* * * *

Mercenary life was largely lived at night. You would wake up before sunset, and go to sleep at sunrise. I found myself skipping a couple nights, here and there, just to make sure that things were going smoothly.

I stopped by the abandoned hospital, where Noctis had been staying.

Before I could enter, I heard footsteps behind me. A man ran up to me, looking as if he had something to say. He was wearing a tan overcoat, and a huge grin on his face. It looked as if he was about to do something stupid.

"Hey!" He said to me in greeting, "You're Gilver, right?"

"Yes." I answered, impatient. "What do you want?"

"Ah…" He trailed off briefly, choosing the right words, "Can I see what's under there? Ya know"

"No." The fool wanted to see my face.

"You sure?" He licked his lips, "It can be our little secret."

"I'm quite sure," I stated, easing Yamato in its scabbard, "Leave me. Now."

He shook his head, then suddenly reached out to pull of my bandages. Coldly, I struck out with Yamato, slicing him open from his thigh to his neck. He stood rigidly for a moment as I sheathed my sword. He collapsed to the ground as Yamato clicked into its scabbard.

"Fool," His death wasn't even useful to me, since his suffering could not feed the Tree. I ordered one of the shadow-demons to move the body elsewhere, so it might seem like another demon attack. If someone tied the murder to this area, Tony might find out what was going on here. Before I wanted him to, that is.

Frustrated with the delay, I entered the hospital. Noctis had torn out parts of the ceiling, expanding his large room at all sides. The immense hospital easily accommodated his renovations, with thousands of square feet to spare. The room itself had become somewhat of a greenhouse, with ragged pieces of flesh and coagulated blood as the soil. The Seed of Death had been planted, but it hadn't sprouted just yet.

"What's taking so long?" I asked him.

"It takes time." Noctis explained, much to my irritation. "The Tree must also be nourished sufficiently."

"I wish you would have told me that it would take this long!" I yelled at him. Noctis paused, thinking.

"There is one way to make it grow faster…"

* * * *

Tony left Bobby's Cellar unusually early one night. He walked down the street, and into an alleyway. He walked at a calm pace, though it seemed he was trying too hard to do so.

Minutes later, he arrived at a small house in a crowded neighborhood in the city. He walked up the steps and rang the doorbell. A moment later, a beautiful, brunette young woman answered. She smiled at him nervously.

"You ready, Princess?" He asked her, his voice was as calm as his walk. She nodded in reply.

They walked to a nearby shopping mall, and entered the movie theater located inside. They got tickets for "Unloved undead". It was one of those horror/romance movies. Tony sat with her, munching on popcorn. He would scoff at how hard the monsters were to kill. He would stare up at the screen with a grin during the scenes with realistic gore. Jessica would cry at the romantic scenes, her eyes unblinking, while Tony dug through his popcorn, looking for the last buttery morsels.

The two talked afterwards, though Jessica spoke much more than Tony, who had been pretty quiet all evening.

"You're quiet tonight." Jessica said, "Which is abnormal, of course."

"Thanks a lot, Princess." Tony replied with sarcasm.

"I just feel you aren't all here with me," She explained, "My dad set this up, didn't he?"

"He figured you could use a good time."

"I knew it," She looked down at the floor, obviously disappointed. Tony caught on, and set the record straight.

"Listen, he didn't have to try hard to convince me."

She smiled and gave him a sidelong glance.

"Hmm," She put on a inquisitive expression, "I don't se you going out with other girls." Tony seemed completely unaware of the trap she had set.

"Well," He said, "most girls aren't really worth my time."

"I see…And I am?

"You're better looking than most girls." Tony was not just aware of the trap, he sprang it, and then some. He smiled charmingly.

"You're right about that," Jessica replied, "I'm too good-looking for _you_!"

"What?" Tony stopped, confused.

"You saw those guys back there!" She said with excitement, "They were _hot_! I'll see you later!"

At that, she turned and quickly walked in the other direction.

"Ha ha!" Tony called out to her, "Very funny, Princess!"

She kept walking.

"Princess?"

* * * *

"So you had a good time, right?" Tony asked Jessica, as he walked her to her doorstep. "I mean, how _couldn't_ you?"

"I did." She smiled, "Sorry about the joke earlier, I couldn't resist."

"You never can!" Tony came close to her, "Don't worry about it."

She looked up at him, as if expecting something. Tony looked into her eyes for a moment, completely still.

"Goodnight, Princess." He said, and turned around and walked away.

Jessica watched him vanish into the darkness, and turned to unlock her door. As she fumbled for her keys, someone grabbed her shoulder from behind and turned her around.

"You didn't think I'd leave without saying 'goodnight', did ya?" Tony said, and pulled her into his arms and kissed her soundly.

* * * * *

I watched this scene from the low rooftops above. I watched the happiness that Tony possessed. It filled me with such anger, such hate. The man who brought so much suffering to me was not suffering himself. I remembered what it was like with Elizabeth, and our time spent together. I remembered her death at the hands of Nox and Dies. Why should he be spared such a fate?

Quick and merciless justice would be upheld in a world under my rule.

* * * * *

That night, before dawn broke, the silence was interrupted by a shrill scream. An unspoiled beauty, her life hardly begun, was taken from her home. She was carried into the stillness of the night, and left in the care of the shadows themselves.

An older man looked for her in the morning, and found nothing but an empty bed. Shocked, he frantically searched his home, calling out her name. He had been out working all through the night; he was not there to see what had happened.

He found his other daughters in their beds, sound asleep. As relieved as he was, he still couldn't find his oldest daughter. He asked his neighbors, desperate to find her. They said she was screaming and crying, calling out her father's name. She spoke of demons attacking her, and monsters from the shadows. Her frantic screams could be heard throughout the entire neighborhood. One man claimed she was taken to a mental institution at a hospital outside of town. It was the older man's only lead, so he followed it.

He arrived at a clean and modern hospital, bustling with doctors and nurses. Patients crowded the waiting rooms, every one of them looked miserable. He pushed through the lines, hoping to find a doctor.

"Hey!" He shoved a bleeding man out of the way to get a young doctor's attention. "Where's the psychiatric ward?"

"5th floor" the doctor answered quickly.

He made his way up the stairs, not having enough patience to use the elevators. He arrived at the desk of the psychiatric ward of the hospital. He asked if there was a patient fitting his daughter's description. The lady at the desk looked through her records, and found that there was indeed a young woman who was just admitted.

Grue immediately rushed to the listed room, and saw his daughter, Jessica, standing in the corner of a padded room. He stared through the glass window on the door, blood drained from his face.

She stared at the ground with a blank expression. Her eyes were glazed over, and her arms bound in a straight-jacket. Her chestnut hair was messy, and her green eyes had not consciousness behind them.

"What happened?" Grue asked the doctor monitoring her.

"Emergency services picked her up last night." The doctor answered him, "She was having a psychotic episode. She was a danger to herself, so we put her in here."

"What's wrong with her?" Grue asked, the entire event sinking in.

"We're not sure," the doctor answered, "But we'll find out."


	24. Illusion

Grue left the hospital, leaving the work to the experts. He walked away from the hustle and bustle of a busy hospital. He left a clean and professional facility, one that could be trusted.

However…The cleanliness vanished, leaving behind rust. The bustle of patients and doctors was replaced with empty hallways. The constant chatter of people and instruments was replaced with a deathly silence. The hospital was in ruins.

Jessica still had the same expression on her face. A single tear trickled out of the corner of her eye. She was unmoving, and silent.

Rough branches reached up to envelope her in a macabre embrace. That single tear was wicked away and consumed with perverted hunger by the black limbs that wrapped around her. They twisted around her body, until she was completely engulfed in the writhing form.

She made no sound. Not a whimper.


	25. Gun Shop

The days went by, and mercenary life was becoming part of my routine. I would wake up at sunset, go to Bobby's cellar, take any job offered to me; then I would relax and go home. Tony and I were often requested to partner up. The middle-men and their employers knew that no matter what the job was, it would get done with Tony Redgrave and Gilver working on it.

Enzo walked into the bar, the mercenaries didn't even bother to get up. They knew who the job was going to.

"Hey champ," Enzo said to me, "They want you to partner up again, ok?"

"Good." I answered. He walked over to Tony.

"Hey, we got another one for you and Gilver."

The bar was filled with cries of protests. The mercenaries were obviously getting tired of being right.

"Come on, Enzo!" One of the called out to him, "throw us some jobs, for crying out loud!"

"Calm down!" Enzo yelled at the angry patrons. "You'll get your scraps! They can't be everywhere at once!"

Tony wasn't listening to this exchange. He was staring at an empty bar stool at the counter. The usual cloud of smoke was absent, and the smell of rotting hops no longer permeated that area.

"You alright?" Enzo asked him. Tony snapped out of it, emerging from his thoughts.

"Yeah," He replied, still a little distracted, "Let's go."

* * * * *

Tony and I were in an old, run-down building near the docks. We were in a room filled with armed gangsters and drug-lords. They readied their weapons, watching us warily.

Tony had decided that sneaking in wasn't the best way to handle this. I was curious to see what his plan was, so I went along. He led me through the front door, and into a room full of men carrying automatic weapons.

So here we were, surrounded and outnumbered, with twenty-five guns aimed at us.

"Time out!" Tony yelled out, putting his hands into the shape of a "T". He walked out the front door and brought back a small barrel, with a pump attached. The men around us spoke amongst themselves in some foreign language, confused.

"You see this?" Tony asked them, he started pumping a liquid all over the room, and even on the gangsters themselves. They yelled in alarm and raised their guns.

"Uh-uh!" Tony wagged his finger. "No shooting! If you shoot, the whole place goes up. Boom." They seemed to understand that, since they lowered their guns slowly.

"You don't want that, do ya?"

The men looked around nervously, not knowing what to do. Tony immediately jumped into the crowd, and began beating them with his fists. They tried to fight back, but they were no match for his strength. They ran away like frightened sheep towards the exit.

"Come here, ya sissies!" Tony called out.

I moved quickly, putting myself between them and the supposed salvation. I drew Yamato, and began slashing through them, sometimes taking three heads off at once. I was careful not to ignite a spark, which would likely cause the entire room to burst into flames.

Yamato cleanly sliced through them, mixing blood and gasoline on the floor. The curious mixture was soaked up by the clean suits worn by the dead mobsters. Lifeless bodies, and heads, littered the floor.

I wiped off my blade, and sheathed it.

"You killed them all?" Tony spat, clearly disgusted.

"That was the job." I replied. Tony turned around, not even trying to hide the fact that my merciless killing sickened him. He walked out of the warehouse, heading back to Bobby's Cellar.

* * * * *

Days later, the entire bar full of mercenaries was full of chatter, mostly about my exploits during that job at the docks.

"Every single one of them." A veteran mercenary finished related the story.

"All fifty of them?" Another asked, in amazement.

"Yep, he sliced their heads clean off, they could even squeeze off a single shot!"

Rumors swirled around the mercenary world, including Bobby's Cellar. The number of mobsters always changed, but the description of my grim execution was always the same. The men were starting to glorify such efficiency, and look down upon the old ways of mercy.

"It's about time a real merc came in and showed the rest how its really done." The veteran said, taking a swig of beer.

"Tony's old news!" A younger one exclaimed, "I'll bet you he's slipping. I could probably take him now!"

"Right!" the veteran chuckled, "And even if you couldn't, you wouldn't have to worry about getting killed!"

"Tony's a joke! Gilver told me that mercy is a weakness!"

The chatter continued throughout the bar. I observed it from a booth in the corner. A smile crossed my face.

I saw Bobby's head snap up, he saw someone through the small window in the door. It was Tony. He immediately made for the door and went outside to talk to him.

I got up, and walked towards the counter to get a better view. I saw Bobby talking to Tony, he seemed like he was explaining something to him. Tony put his hands in his pockets, and looked to the ground with disdain. My guess was that Bobby was explaining the situation in the bar. If Tony went in, fights would break out and Bobby's Cellar would be a wreck.

Apparently, I was right. Tony said something to Bobby, turned around and walked away. Bobby returned to the bar and began to clean glasses as if nothing happened.

Something bothered me. I wasn't sure what it was. I felt that there was a piece of the puzzle that was missing. I decided to go with my gut, and I left the bar.

Tony walked to another bar and stayed there for a while. I waited outside, hoping that I didn't waste my time by following him. I sat there, perched on the rooftops like a Gothic statue. Hours passed, and Tony finally left the bar. He walked leisurely, and eventually made his way to an old office building. He climbed up the steel steps of an old fire-escape, and made his way inside. I tricked to the top of the building, and found a dusty skylight to look through and see just what Tony was up to.

I looked into the building, and saw what can only be described as a room full of guns. An older woman stood behind a glass counter, and greeted Tony as he entered. She put away some tools, and picked up a couple of heavy-looking pistols. Tony looked excited as she handed them to him. He immediately twirled them in his hands, and aimed them at imaginary targets. The bootleg guns looked awkwardly shaped, but Tony handled them with unmatched skill.

The two talked, and bickered as well. Tony smiled, enjoying every minute of his antagonistic teasing. The woman shooed him away, obviously getting fed up with his joking. Tony holstered his new guns, and made his way out of the building. He walked away with cockiness, as if he was reacting to a scolding from our mother…

That was it.

That was the missing piece.

I had figured it out, and it sickened me.

I jumped down to the street below, and made my way up the steps. I walked into the gun shop, and was greeted with the chime of a bell on the door. The old woman looked up from a project at the counter.

She looked towards me, lowering a pair of reading glasses. She couldn't have been older than sixty, and wore a brown apron. She had bags under her blue eyes, and a little bit of blonde could be seen in her graying hair. The wall behind her was lined with plaques, likely awards, with her name engraved on them. Nell Goldstein.

"Can I help you?" she asked, fear in her voice. Perhaps my reputation preceded me, though she didn't look like the kind of woman to be scared so easily.

"Yes." I answered, "Yes, you can." I walked along the glass counter, examining the various firearms within it, and displayed on the walls. I was looking for something. Something recognizable. I saw a gun plate that read ".45 Caliber Art Warks". The woman obviously worked with pistols, it would be hard to find something out of the ordinary.

I scanned the walls until I saw what I was looking for. It was a sawed-off shotgun, highly modified, and marked with a sign "Not For Sale".

"I'll take that one," I pointed to it, getting out a large stack of cash. I slapped the money down on the counter.

"Its not for sale," she said, "I only made it to show off. Besides, its so short and modified, you'd have to shove it in your target's face to do any damage."

"That's alright." I reached up and took it off the shelf. Goldstein started to protest, but stopped herself. I examined the gun, and found that it was definitely well-made.

"I don't usually handle guns," I told her, slight disgust in my voice. "But that's alright. I'll take it anyway."

I turned and walked towards the door.

"Wait!" She said, "What do you plan on shooting with that thing anyway?"

I stopped, feeling I might as well answer.

"Something that walks like a man, but isn't." She pondered my enigmatic statement, and looked down to count the cash.

I tricked myself out of the room, hurrying to put my plans into motion. I heard her inside the building, about to tell me that I paid her too much. Her voice cut off upon seeing that I was gone.


	26. Partners, New and Old

I bounded across the dirty rooftops of the city, jumping over alleyways and entire streets. The cold evening air swept about me, and managed to creep through my bandages. I felt the shotgun awkwardly positioned in my coat. I adjusted it as I made my way back to the warehouse.

The streets were growing desolate, the people below me worried about getting home before the thugs came out. Light was fading fast; the streetlights were dull and offered little illumination. The sun did no more than cast a pink glow on the clouds on the horizon. It was more than enough to light my way.

The warehouse came up to me fast, and I jumped off the last building, and landed on the street below. As I walked toward my shoddy home, I pondered what I'd do next. I only planned a few things this far ahead, but mostly I just made my plans up on the spot.

I spent the next hour or so thinking about the various particulars of what I needed to do. Noctis interrupted me in an untimely manner. His deep growl boomed in my head.

"That man is here again." He told me, referring to Grue. "He wants to see his daughter again."

"Let him see her." I instructed him, "But do me a favor…"

* * * * *

At Bobby's Cellar, I was sitting at the booth with Enzo, who was sipping a cold beer. The mercenaries around us were getting more and more bloodthirsty. They were weaving tales of their violent exploits. Their insatiable bloodlust was apparent.

"Wow," Enzo said to me, "It's getting pretty scary here."

"I suppose." I answered emotionless. The bloodlust was mixed with fear. Fear of the unknown. The macabre murders in the city were diminishing; it confused them and filled them with fear. My shadow demons were lessening their attacks. The Tree of Death had all the nourishment it needed.

"So…" Enzo started, "Did you hear about Grue?"

"No." I lied.

"His daughter got checked into a mental institution." He told me, "He's been taking all sorts of nasty jobs to get the money for her treatment."

"Unfortunate."

"Yeah, he never takes assassination jobs…"

"What's his next one?"

"Uh..." Enzo thought for a moment. "I think it was taking out this poor kid who ran into some trouble with his rivals. They put a bounty on his head. Why do you ask?"

"Perhaps I can assist him." I said, "If he needs the money, I'd be glad to help."

"Wow, Gilver!" Enzo smiled, "You're a nice guy! Sure I'll show you where it is."

* * * * *

It was a mansion, large and extravagant. Not much unlike Cecil's, and not far away from it either. The grey stone reflected the moonlight, and it appeared to glow with some unholy light.

Grue would be here tonight. He was to use the night of a party to cover the assassination. The young man was going to fly home the next day, so his friends were throwing him a going away party.

I made my way around the back, no security forces were there to stop me. If the young man had any sense, his forces were inside to protect him. I jumped to the roof, and easily gained access to an open window on the third floor.

_Perhaps he doesn't have any sense…_

The hallways were empty, save for the ornate furniture and masterful pieces of art. Statues and busts lines the way, and colorful paintings hung on the walls. But again, no security.

_He's already dead._

I snuck down the stairs cautiously. But it was without need, as I didn't see any signs of life until I reached the stairs to the first floor. I heard cheering, and music. As I came down the stairs, I got a better look.

A crowd of young men and women filled the grand hall. They were no more than teenagers…For a moment, I forgot my own age. Most of these people were probably older than me. But they were rowdy and immature.

The room was filled with balloons and decorations. Colorful lights shined around the otherwise dark room. The crowd was gathered around what I figured to be a drinking game. The memory of my last experience with that still haunted me. I instinctively put my hand to my head, as if it were in pain.

The group cheered louder, as someone apparently won the game. They hoisted a young man with dark hair up onto their shoulders. They chanted his name, but it was hard to hear it with all the shouting and the music. I could only guess that it was the young man the party was for.

My suspicions were confirmed when suddenly the man fell backwards, off of the shoulders of those carrying him. The crowd erupted with laughter, thinking it was just him having one too many drinks.

A woman screamed.

The crowd backed up in shock, and from the stairs I could see the bullet-hole in his head.

Now was the time to act.

I released the shadow-demons, who immediately snuck into the crowd. The young man stood up, with the blood on his face still gleaming. The crowd backed away even further. His eyes were glazed over, and the back of his head was blown out, revealing the shattered bone and brain tissue within.

The shadow-demons revealed themselves and attacked the party of people. Screams filled the room, and blood erupted in fountains. The women cried out desperately for help, and the men ran like cowards.

_Where are you, Grue?_

I scanned the room ignoring the chaos. I knew that Grue saw what happened, and was now frozen in fear. But where?

_There_.

I saw a vent, it seemed big enough for a man to hide in. I called out to my minions, and willed them to check it. They opened it up, reached in and pulled a figure out of it.

The room went silent.

The chaos ended.

The people in the room were possessed, bloodied and broken. They surrounded the man on the floor. I began to descend the stairs; all eyes turned to me.

"Well, well…" I said aloud. "if it isn't Tony's old partner."

'What's going on?" Grue asked, still on the floor. He was sweating profusely, and clutched a large revolver. In another holster was a silenced pistol, likely what he used for his assassination attempt.

"Oh…" I started, "I'm just gathering slaves" The statement was partly true.

"Human blood," I continued, "allows these demons to break free from their bonds and become corporeal."

I turned around to show him an example. I nodded my head to a possessed man nearby. The man burst open, blood showering those nearby. In its place was a grotesque demon. It stood at the man's own height, hunched over and somewhat like a giant, bipedal lizard, though without skin. Blood vessels ran across its body, and dark blood oozed from unseen pores. Its clawed hands were glistening with thick blood, and its pale muscles were tensed, ready to attack at my command. The short-snouted face of the creature was as bloody as the rest of it, and its red eyes were looking intently upon Grue, as if it thirsted for more blood than it already had. Two tusks pointed straight out from the inside of its mouth, and razor sharp teeth were exposed as its dark tongue licked them clean.

Grue was horrified. Witnessing this sickening transformation took its toll on him. I myself was impressed at the adaptability of this particular brand of demon. No wonder the Demon Emperor assigned it as his own special guard.

"I won't bother explaining all of this to you, old man." I said to Grue. "You had your usefulness."

Grue's eyes widened as I drew Yamato. He began to shiver, and he tried to back away.

"It's too bad your body is too old to handle possession" I told him, "even for a short time."

Grue closed his eyes, for that was all he could do. I raised Yamato.

"Tony will miss you."

I struck.

* * * * *

The sun rose slowly over the rooftops of the city. It illuminated the clouds, casting a deep-red tinge onto the world. The normal people were starting to stir, their minds awaking from their hazy sleep. The nocturnal creatures, both human and inhuman, were slinking back to their lairs.

The very earth and sky were bathed in a blood-red light, an omen of what was to come. The chill in the morning air swirled about, penetrating to the bone. The people lived their lives, but an intense anxiety could be felt, almost as crippling as the cold.

Neither of those affected me. I did not cling to my coat, which was waving loose behind me. The black coat flowed in the wind like a flag of death and doom. For doom was what was coming to this world.

I felt not anxiety, but instead, thirst. A thirst for power and a thirst for revenge. I felt the excitement of my plan coming to fruition. Every waking moment, I could feel that dark mirth echoing throughout my very being.

_Yes…It's all coming together now._

I made my way back home, and prepared. I went over it all in my mind, working out every last detail. I did not want to miss something important. However, my thoughts were untimely interrupted, yet again by Noctis' voice in my head.

"It is ready."

I gave a start, shocked to hear those words. I immediately threw on my coat and grabbed Yamato. I made my way out of the aged quarters, and ran outside. The warehouse was but a blur as I left it. The excitement was there again, and it was so powerful that I almost triggered my transformation out of pure exhilaration.

The hospital seemed to rush towards me, as I arrived in a matter of seconds, rather than minutes. The graffiti-lined, almost gothic structure invited me inside, beckoning me to take the next step in my plan. I went inside and found Noctis there waiting.

"It has been millennia since I have seen a fully developed Tree since…" He trailed off.

I cared not for his nostalgic sentiments; I immediately went to the Tree. I walked up to its twisted trunk, and placed my hands on the rough bark. The Tree beneath my hand pulsated, as if it had its own beating heart. The black bark was like rough animal hide, and held the same life.

This Tree was mine, and served me. It was the key to my destiny. I looked to the lower branches, and found a small twig. Carefully, I plucked it from the Tree, which didn't seem to notice the removal at all. Noctis watched me intently, perhaps in awe over what was happening.

"Soon," I told him, as I held up the bleeding branch "I shall open the portal."

"What is your purpose?" Noctis asked me, "What is it you seek on the other side?"

Noctis obviously kept his word on not delving into my secret thoughts. I answered him concisely.

"Power."

He cocked his head to the side, confused. But after a moment, he started nodding, as if he understood.

"So it is you, Son of Sparda."

My head snapped up involuntarily, my eyes meeting his.

"I knew I recognized you." He told me, "Your face is covered, but you cannot hide your heritage."

I said nothing, but instead wrapped up the branch from the Tree in a cloth. I put it in my pocket and left. I felt no need to explain myself. He served his purpose, and could guard the Tree for eternity for all I cared. I did not need much else from him.

I wandered around the city, simply buying time until Tony made his next move. The sun was shining brighter now, high above the rooftops of the city. The sky was clear, and the day seemed perfect. As if the sun were savoring its last day of being seen on this earth.


	27. First Taste

Nothing happened until dusk, when the sky turned an ominous purple and cast such a feeling amongst the people in Newport. Clouds gathered on the horizon, threatening to cover the city in a violent storm. I did not hear of any movement from Tony during the day, and spent much of it wandering around, deep in thought.

But finally, just as I was about to step foot in Bobby's Cellar, Noctis called out to me.

"Son of Sparda," Noctis slipped easily into calling me that name, interestingly with respect, rather than abhorrence. "Your brother is here."

"Hmm." I shouldn't have figured Noctis for an idiot; Tony didn't even bother to cover his face. He should have been easily recognizable. "Show me."

One of Noctis' minions, slithered its way out of my shadow. It seemed to stretch out and grow, all the while creating a sort of tent around me. Darkness enveloped me, and I was all alone in a void where no one, man or demon, had been before.

Gradually, I began to see images all around me. Slowly, they formed together into one picture. The darkness around me dissipated, and it was as if I was at the hospital itself. However, I saw Tony before me, looking up at the imposing, and aged, iron-gate before the hospital. He did not notice me, because I was not really there. Just as Noctis changed the image of the hospital itself for Grue, he was showing me what was happening there at that very moment.

Lightning flashed, and the loud boom of thunder followed a second afterwards. The storm was getting closer, and yet again it seemed as if the world knew what was going to happen.

Tony kicked open the gate, and proceeded towards the hospital with his red coat trailing after him. He carried with him Rebellion and the two pistols that I saw him receive from the old woman, Goldstein. He walked with his usual confidence, and I followed behind him. However, once he entered the building, it seemed as if he was growing weaker. The very air seemed to waver and darken. He began to breathe heavily, as if he were fighting the very atmosphere around him.

He wandered through the hospital, searching for something…Or someone.

"Shall I send an attack?" Noctis asked me, wisely consulting me before he sent his minions.

"Do it." I said, "But not all at once."

"Very well." Noctis replied. I immediately saw a small group of the shadow-demons emerge from worn, concrete floor. They approached him silently from behind. They lunged out at him, hoping to catch him by surprise. But he turned around quickly, sword drawn, and sliced away at the first of them. The rest jumped back quickly to avoid his long blade.

"You guys don't know a thing about creeping around!" he smiled, "Watch a horror flick and take notes!"

He beckoned the remaining demons to come forward, teasingly smiling. The demons rushed forward, their shadowy claws eager to run through Tony's flesh. Rebellion, however, crashed into the entire group at once. The dark, demonic bodies were crushed, rather than sliced. He was just toying with them, swatting them with the flat of his blade.

After the shadow demons' bodies vanished into the ground, Tony turned away and continued through the hospital at his usual pace. But after a moment, something seemed to happen. He began to slow, his breathing became labored, and sweat soaked his brow.

He was growing weaker.

As I followed him, I felt a strong curiosity towards this. The same thing happened to him at the Oz Club's bank.

_What could it be?_ I asked myself.

"The nexus is stronger here than it was before." Noctis seemed to read my mind, "Such exposure to my kind, including my minions _can_ cause this effect…Amongst humans."

I cocked my head to the side in confusion.

"The Tree itself has a stronger connection to this world than my kind does." Noctis continued. "It serves as a bridgehead between the Human world, and the Demonic Realm."

I understood that much. Grue and the other humans were paralyzed when met with even a small connection to the Demon world through the shadow demons.

_But why would Tony grow weaker?_

"Send more" I said aloud. Noctis immediately obeyed, but upped the ante to my satisfaction. The next wave carried weapons of their own, mostly scythes. Tony seemed to recover, and drew his sword coolly.

"Heh," He started in his cocky tone, "I don't think those are going to help you against _this_."

At that, he lunged forward with Rebellion spinning. Heads and limbs were hacked off, and the dark weapons themselves provided no protection and proved to be little threat to Tony.

As soon as the demons were gone, he took a step forward. However, his leg gave out from under him and he collapsed to the floor.

I smirked.

He laid there for a moment, breathing heavily. He struggled to stand, using Rebellion as a crutch.

"Damn…" he muttered to himself.

Tony continued on his way, slower than ever. His pace was pathetic, but he continued to push himself.

"I'm comin' for you, Princess." He said out loud. "I'm comin'"

I felt a surge of anger.

"More!" I yelled to Noctis. He was so surprised at my tone, it took him a few moments to obey. Several groups of the dark demons emerged from the walls, and the floor. They attacked Tony without warning, moving with startling speed. Tony dropped to the ground and rolled to the side, dodging the attacks. He instantly drew the two heavy pistols I had seen the old woman give him. While still on the floor, he sent a barrage of bullets into the group of demons. Tony fired the guns with impossible speed, the semi-automatic pistols sounding like machine guns.

His assault tore through the shadowy attackers like they were wet paper. Smoke creeped out of the barrels of his spent pistols and Tony looked around carefully for signs of life. Upon seeing nothing, he relaxed his body and lay on the floor a while longer. He tossed aside the guns carelessly, and used all of his strength to push himself to his feet.

He stood, using Rebellion to prop himself up. He took a step forward, abandoning his guns and getting ever closer to the Tree of Death. Suddenly the wearied look on his face disappeared, and he looked around at his arms and legs. He jumped up and down as if testing his strength.

"Huh," he said aloud, and then resumed moving on at a normal pace. I cared not for why he suddenly recovered. In fact, I was slightly relieved that he wouldn't be defeated so easily. I put my questions aside and continued to watch. Tony pushed forward, through the concrete-floored hallways, lined with graffiti and various refuse.

I followed, unseen and unsensed. Tony was oblivious to my witnessing these events. I watched him as he came into the large room at the center of the hospital. I saw him look around the room, taking in his surroundings. The ceiling was crumbled and broken through to provide more room. A pitch-black darkness clouded any view of just how far up the room extended. The floor was littered with metal beams and plaster. At the very center of the cavernous area was the Tree, black as Death itself and pulsating with a mockery of life.

"What the-...?" He asked out loud. The gnarled branches of demonic origin were inherently alien to him. The Tree itself exuded a strange energy, almost visibly affecting the air around it. The limbs extended up through the ceiling and into the blackness above the room. Shadows seemed to swirl around. Tony immediately noticed and readied himself.

"Welcome" A voice boomed from the palpable darkness above. A thick, shadowy mist swirled down from the ceiling and began to take shape. Tony stood his ground as the immense beast took his true form. Noctis towered over him, his piercing red eyes fixed on no other. Tony responded just as I expected him to.

"Well, this is a _BIG_ surprise." He visibly sized up his opponent. Noctis growled, spreading his wings threateningly.

"If you value your life," he said, his voice echoing through the room, "I suggest you leave now."

"And miss all the fun?" Tony scoffed, "Not a chance."

"Very well," Noctis struck without warning, throwing himself at Tony with even greater speed than he had the time we had fought. He plunged his talons into Tony's chest, piercing his body all the way through. Both Noctis and Tony crashed into the wall, sending a cloud of dust and debris throughout the room.

As the dust settled, I could see Tony pinned to the wall by Noctis' claws, but he seemed unfazed.

"Ow," Tony said mockingly, "Please stop." He rolled his eyes and kicked the point of his sword with his heel, sending it up into the air. Tony caught it, and sliced off Noctis' arms, freeing Tony from the demon's claws. The arms toppled helplessly to the ground.

"Now let's make this quick." Tony said with his blade resting on his shoulder.

Noctis struck out like a cobra, biting at Tony with his large fangs. Tony was too fast, and flipped himself forward, landing on Noctis' head. He plunged Rebellion into the demon's skull, driving it through with intense strength. Noctis went limp, his body crashing to the ground with a resounding thud.

Tony pulled Rebellion free from Noctis' skull and jumped down to the floor. Just as he took a step towards the Tree, he heard Noctis growling behind him. He turned to see Noctis fully recovered. Even I was impressed by the speed of his regeneration.

"What the hell?" Tony was visibly shocked. Noctis laughed.

"You're not far off." He said to Tony, "You feel it, don't you? The Tree gives strength to our kind, and weakens yours."

Tony wore a serious expression, and clutched his sword tightly.

"But then again," Noctis continued, "You aren't entirely human, are you?"

"Cut the chatter!" Tony impatiently yelled, "Why the hell aren't you dead?"

"This," Noctis said, "is not an ordinary tree. It is a direct link to the deepest pits of Hell, where darkness and shadow rules. The energy that it emanates does more than remind us of home."

Tony tried to look casual, but I could tell that he was worried.

"Though," Noctis went further, "I can sense a struggle within you."

"Struggle?" Tony asked, with mock incredulousness, "Nah, that's just indigestion. I had too many hot dogs for lunch today."

"Believe what you wish," Noctis said, seeming to find some humor in Tony's statement, "But I can feel what you are hiding."

Tony was silent.

"You're suppressing it," the demon continued, "perhaps even denying its existence. You can't deny it all, but that doesn't stop you from trying."

"Shut up." Tony sounded like a child who was being scolded.

"That's why you're weak one moment, and strong another. Both sides are battling for dominance, a perpetual struggle within you."

"SHUT UP!" Tony yelled, Rebellion sparked and crackled for a moment.

Noctis only laughed.

"Careful," he said to Tony, "We wouldn't want your dearest love to be harmed."

Noctis' intentions became clear to me. He was trying to throw Tony off guard, and use that to his advantage. This entire time he had been working up towards bringing Jessica into the fight.

"Where is she?!?" Rebellion continued to randomly spark and hum.

Noctis pointed to a low branch on the Tree. The oddly shaped limb was practically a root, and stood out amongst the others.

Tony jumped towards it, worry and guilt visible on his face. Shock replaced his worry as he climbed up the intertwining roots and gazed upon Jessica's tear-filled eyes looking out at him. Her time in the Tree had been significant, and she had become one with its form.

"No…" Tony said in disbelief. "Princess, no…"

Jessica's body was nothing more than a twisted wooden form. Her arms were small, black branches and her face was merely a shape in the bark of the tree. Her eyes were the only thing visible, and red tears flowed freely from them.

"She means much to you, does she not?" Noctis further taunted his adversary.

"Let…Her…GO!" Tony turned to Noctis, Rebellion was humming loudly now. The blade glowed bright red, and sparks of electric current scattered around it.

"Why?" Noctis asked, chuckling. "You cannot save her and you cannot defeat me, I am immort-"

Noctis' sentence was cut short. Tony landed behind him, his sword still glowing an angry red.

"No…" Noctis growled, "No…"

His head fell off of his long neck and landed on the cold, hard concrete. His body followed, and toppled to the ground.

"Sorry, I didn't quite catch that." Tony said, "What were you sayin'?"

Noctis' body melted, turning into a black mist and vanishing into the air. His head was the only thing remaining.

"You will never survive the pain that awaits you." He said, "I can see into your soul, Son of Sparda. Remember that it was I who gave you this warning."

"I'll remember you alright," Tony smirked, "Sweet dreams."

Noctis' head dissipated into nothingness, and the illusion surrounding me was vanishing as well. The scene began to blur, as if the world lost its focus. That last thing I could see was Tony. He walked up to Jessica's gnarled body, and drew his sword.

The illusion vanished.

I was standing in a cold alleyway near Bobby's Cellar. A cold breeze flowed through the buildings slowly. The chill of the midnight air penetrated my bandages, my flesh and my bones. The breeze grew stronger, and began to turn into a strong gust that caused my coat to flail violently behind me.

Suddenly, I felt a surge of some strange energy flowing into my body. I looked around and I saw the shadow-demons swirling around me, merging with my own shadow. They lost their master, and were now pledging themselves fully to my rule. I could feel their unwavering loyalty to me, perhaps the only other being they've known for millennia. Their master, Noctis, their cause…It was all lost now. All they had was me.

I smiled.

It was a first taste of the power and control I would achieve.


	28. Dante

The next night, the door to Bobby's cellar creaked open, and the men all turned for a moment to see who was entering. I slowly walked into the room, the men acknowledging me and returning to their conversations.

"Remember that girl that was always hung up on Tony?" One mercenary said.

"Kerry?" another asked.

"Yeah, her." The first mercenary answered. "She pulled Tony out of the gutter that one night, and put some moves on him."

"Did she now?"

"Uh-huh. Apparently he wasn't interested. She killed herself after he threw her out. Slit her wrists."

"What?!?"

"That's what _I_ said!"

"Ouch," the second merc said, rubbing his own wrists. "Do you ever notice that everyone who gets involved with Tony ends up dying? Grue's gone missing, Mad-Dog, and now Kerry bit it!"

"I also heard Tony went to that hospital at the edge of town. He was going there to 'save' Grue's daughter. He left the place in flames."

My head snapped up slightly. Tony had destroyed the tree and the building itself. I absent-mindedly fiddled with the branch of the Tree that was in my coat. How fortunate was it that I was prudent enough to save this piece. It was still alive and I could feel it pulsating in my coat. Something told me that I could even make a new Tree myself with it. It would regenerate, given the chance. Bobby joining the mercenaries' conversation snapped me out of my thoughts.

"Tony isn't trouble, guys" he started. "..Alright he is. But that _that_ kind of trouble."

I smiled.

"Oh, hey Gilver." Bobby said, taking notice of me. "What will you have?"

I stood up.

I scanned the room, taking in the numbers of the mercenaries around me. They were all here.

"I need something from all of you," I raised my voice slightly. The entire crowd of men looked up at me, silent and eager to listen to their new favorite friend.

"You're all strong men, are you not?" I asked, the men smiled and laughed. Patting each other on the back and drawing themselves up. "I need you to put those strong bodies to good use."

They smiled, expecting another job.

"I need you to be hosts for my servants."

The bar patrons looked at each other, confused. They whispered and shook their heads. Their eyes widened as they slowly realized that the shadows behind me were moving. The shadow-demons emerged from my own shadow. They rose up slowly, almost theatrically. They extended shadowy talons, and their red eyes glowed brightly.

The men stood up in panic and backed away.

"You see," I continued casually, "Each one of my servants needs a host, so that he will become flesh and blood. Of course, you will die…But your bodies will be put to good use."

The men drew their weapons, shouting threats and taking cover behind overturned tables.

"No hard feelings, right?"

The demons advanced on them, and all the men could do was watch in horror. Fear gripped their very souls, and stayed their trigger-fingers until…

A shot fired, and encouraged the others to fire as well. But it was no use; the demons were already upon them. Fountains of blood and shrill screams filled the room. I watched the scene calmly, waiting for the carnage to end, and another piece of the trap to be put into place.

* * * * *

I paced the silent room, surrounded by the mutilated bodies of the bar patrons. Each one was possessed, their eyes glowing with the same unnatural red light that once shined from the very shadows themselves. Every one of those eyes was fixated on me, awaiting my orders with unwavering dedication and loyalty.

"I think we're ready," I said to my servants, "Don't you?"

They answered with an unearthly howl. Inhuman claws extended from the seemingly human hands. They were ready.

"Good." I smiled, "It is time."

* * * *

Tony emerged from Goldstein's shop; his hands plunged deep into his coat pockets. The bitter cold of the night air seemed to bother him more than usual. He walked the alleyways absent-mindedly, not even paying attention to his surroundings. He was deep in thought, his eyes unfocused, and unblinking.

The old woman in the building was working on something. Two pieces of metal sat on a red silk cloth, perhaps too large to be guns. It made no difference to me.

The bell above the door chimed as I entered, and she looked up quickly. Her eyes widened for a moment. She slowly and deliberately covered her work with another piece of silk. She took off her glasses, setting them down on her desk.

"What can I do for you, Gilver?" she asked me, turning in her chair. I didn't answer right away, but instead walked to her silently, grim as an executioner.

"Did you come for a nice chat over tea?" she asked sarcastically. I simply looked at her, giving her no answer.

She may have been a handsome woman once, but age took its toll. Wrinkles on her brow suggested a lifetime of worry, and her eyes were lined with evidence of many sleepless nights.

The one thing that still looked young was her eyes. They glowed brightly, even in the dim light that the room provided.

"I know what you are." She said to me.

I cared not.

"You're behind everything that's been going on, aren't you?" She stood up, pushing aside her work-light. "Grue…Jessica…everything…"

I drew Yamato slowly. The demon steel rang as it left its sheath. Nell Goldstein nodded slowly, as if she understood.

"Do you know what you have done?" She slowly put her hands behind her back. "You left two little children alone, without their father, and without their sister."

No guilt. No remorse.

"All for what?" She raised her voice, "Money? Revenge?"

"Power."

My cold answer startled her. She looked at me in disbelief and anger.

"You bastard!" She drew a gun and fired. One, two, three shots straight at me. The woman obviously knew how to use the guns she made. Each bullet tore through my face, passing out the other side.

I endured it, not even blinking. She needed to know what she was up against. I could not dishonor myself by hiding my strength from her.

Her eyes widened in shock as she saw that the bullets had no effect on me. She backed up slowly. She may have known what I was, but she had no idea as to what I was capable of.

She frantically fired her gun, emptying the entire clip. But all she hit was air. Her eyes relaxed, and she set her gun down.

Blood soaked into her clothing.

She stumbled back, knocking over the lamp on her work-desk. The bulb shattered, sending a small amount of sparks and glass onto the floor. The floor, which was covered in a fine dust of gunpowder, immediately burst into flames. Scattered newspapers and boxes, dry and ragged from ages of use, accelerated the fire's spreading.

Goldstein stood upright, ignoring the wound on her stomach, and walked toward her work-desk. I watched in near-visible awe as she resumed working on her project.

"I must finish this." She told me, weakly. Her breaths were staggered, and the bloody stain on her abdomen continued to spread. "You may as well leave."

Cold as I was, I couldn't help but feel a sort of respect for her. She accepted her fate, now that it was sealed. She would die with dignity and honor, rather than choose to deny it till the very end.

I sheathed Yamato, but I wasn't finished.

I ordered some of my shadow demons to stay there. I had a feeling that Tony would try to rescue her. I wouldn't want him to be too comfortable.

The intensity of the flames increased as more and more of the building was engulfed. And yet Goldstein still worked, carefully and in no hurry.

"Show me what happens" I said to my slave. The image wouldn't be as immersive as with Noctis, but at least I'd be able to see what happens.

At that, I left. The building began to creak around me as the walls started to burn through. Onlookers were just starting to show up as I left the scene and returned to Bobby's Cellar.

* * * * *

A few minutes passed, and suddenly the image of the bar was replaced with the image of Goldstein's burning shop. The demon wasn't as intelligent as Noctis, that was certain.

The condition of the shop was quickly deteriorating. Goldstein was still working, though. Through the eyes of my slave, I saw Tony burst through the shop door. The bell above chimed softly, the sound drowned out by the roaring flames.

"Hey!" he yelled at Goldstein. His eyes were wide, and his clothes were dripping wet. "What the hell are you doing?!?"

"Working." Goldstein said curtly. Tony blinked, surprised by her tone.

"You're gonna die if you don't get outta here, Old Lady!" He stepped further into the room.

"Hold your horses!" Goldstein barked, "I've got something for you."

"Let's get outta here first!" Tony replied.

"Here." Goldstein gestured towards her work, yet again covered in silk cloth. She pulled the silk away and revealed two large handguns. One black, and the other silver.

"I saw that picture of your father, and saw that he had guns like these." She said quietly. "And those plans you drew up. I guess you've wanted guns like his for a while now."

Tony's expression immediately softened. He ignored the flames around him and walked towards the guns. It was like he was drawn to them.

"Old Lady…" was all he said.

"I know you're no gunsmith," she continued, "You'd never be able to make them yourself. So I did it for you."

Tony picked both guns up, examining them carefully. They looked identical, save for the differences in color. I could not see much of the detail, however.

"I saw that the guns had names." Goldstein said to him, "But the picture is so faded. They seemed to compliment each other, like keys on a piano."

"'Ebony and Ivory'…" Tony said aloud. He smiled, "I'm sure they'll make music together."

Goldstein sighed, "It's too bad I'll never hear the tune."

"What?"

Only then did Tony notice the blood on her apron. Goldstein collapsed, and Tony quickly caught her, falling to the floor himself.

"So…So tired." She said to him as he pulled her away from the encroaching flames. "I used the old plates, I hope you don't mind."

"Come on, Old Lady. Let's get you to a hospital."

"Stop…No." she said to him. With a sad look on his face, he stopped, and sat down on the floor with her. The flames broke through the roof now. Beams and various bits of rubble showered down onto the floor. The moonlight peeked into the room, as if even it was curious to see what was going on.

"You remind me so much of…here." She reached into her pocket and took out an old photo. She handed it to him.

"Just like you…Another…Sorry I couldn't take care of…" Her breathing slowed, and her eyes began to glaze over. "Sorry…"

She exhaled as the life left her body.

Tony bowed his head, and carefully laid her onto the floor.

It began to rain.

Water sprinkled down through the roof as clouds overtook the city. The fire began to sizzle.

"I forgot who I was." Tony said, "I ran away from it all."

Slowly the flames began to recede, revealing the bodies of the previously hidden demons in the room.

"But now…" Tony stood up slowly. "I understand. I can't run anymore."

The demons lurched forward, ready to strike.

"Tony Redgrave is dead."

Closer they drew.

"I am…"

"DAAAAAANTEEE!!" The demons called out.

"Heh, damn right." He smiled. He deftly twirled the gun in his right hand and fired.

* * * * *

The image disappeared.

I smiled. All I had to do was wait.


	29. Laughter

I stood in the doorway of the back room behind the bar in Bobby's Cellar, hidden from view. Tony would likely take a while dealing with the remnants of the shadow demons that I left to guard the outside of the bar. That is, those that weren't possessing the mercenaries that filled the room.

Each one of them sat at a table, and they'd seem completely normal were it not for the mortal wounds covering their bodies. They didn't breathe, they didn't move. All they did was silently wait.

To my surprise, Tony walked in much earlier than I had expected.

He looked around casually, not appearing to notice anything different. He walked up to the counter and sat down at the bar.

"The usual, Bobby." He said to "Bobby" who was working with his back turned to Tony. "Strawberry sundae."

Bobby put together a sloppy display of ice cream and strawberries. He even added the whipped cream. He turned and handed it to Tony, who looked at the dish incredulously. Bobby's eyeball popped out of its socket and landed on top of the dessert.

"Gross man!" Tony said in disgust. He looked Bobby in the face, and without even a hint of a reaction to Bobby's mutilated face, he picked up the eyeball and held up to him.

"You better have this looked at, pal."

The bar patrons suddenly stood up and encircled Tony. They stared at him, their eyes glowing with an inhuman light. A few extended sharp talons that burst forth from all-too-human hands.

They tensed themselves.

Ready to strike.

"Wait."

I called out to my slaves, they immediately obeyed.

"Don't kill him just yet." I walked out into view, "I want to speak with him."

Tony scoffed, still sitting at the bar

"Well, well, well..." He said mockingly, "If it isn't King Tut himself!"

"Hmm" I said "You're still as cocky as ever. But your taunts are useless. I only wish for you to beg for your life."

"Fat chance!" he answered, smiling.

"Very well," I smiled back, "Kill him."

One by one, my minions burst free from their human hosts. Blood splattered over the ceilings and the walls. Every one of the seemingly human bodies was replaced with a demon, covered in blood. Each one set its gaze upon Tony, readying claws or snarling menacingly.

"Time to rock!" Tony stood up, unsheathing Rebellion. I noticed something in that moment: Rebellion was bigger. It was perhaps as large as it was when Sparda had held it. And though it should by no means be used to compare their strengths, it was indeed a sign that Tony had grown in power.

Perfect.

One of the bloody demons attacked, and Tony kicked it, sending it flying towards the edge of the room. It crashed into an old jukebox, and collapsed to the floor. The dented jukebox lit up, and started to play.

Tony brandished Rebellion to the beat of the hard rock song that was being played. More demons attacked, two, three, four at a time. Tony swung Rebellion, and despite its size, it sliced through them as cleanly as ever.

The song continued, giving Tony's attacks a feeling of rhythm. Each dodge, each counter matched the beat set by the drums. Each slice and stab mimicked the blaring guitars.

The bloody demons were strong; their thick limbs were heavily muscled. They used the material provided by their hosts very well. Their claws were razor sharp, and some demons were good enough to slice through Tony's coat, perhaps even into Tony's flesh, but he showed no signs of feeling the attacks.

Tables and chairs were thrown aside and scattered. Those that weren't tossed aside were cut to pieces as Tony swept Rebellion in a lethal arc. Bobby's Cellar was a mess. The center of the floor was cleared, bodies and debris had migrated to the outer part of the room, and blood dripped from the ceiling above.

Tony continued to hack his enemies to pieces, as I stood silently and waited for him to finish. Finally, the last demon was cut in half. Its eyes widened and it screamed loudly with the pain. The bodies did not dissipate, nor did they melt into nothingness. They surrounded Tony, each one looking at him with lifeless eyes.

Human eyes.

Tony twirled his massive sword and pointed its tip at the ground, posing theatrically just as the song ended.

I clapped slowly, mocking his supposed triumph.

"Well, you can't say you didn't try." He said to me, replacing the sword on his back. I laughed.

"Those slaves were never a match for you. I know that well enough." I said, "I just find it amusing that you'd strike down those closest to you. Your _friends_."

"Those things aren't my friends." He answered with a smile. "Not anymore."

"Sure they are, don't you see?" smiling back at him, "Even though their bodies were under demonic control; and their flesh no longer what you'd call 'human'…Their souls were trapped within."

Tony froze. Outwardly, he remained emotionless, but I could feel his very soul being weighed down with guilt.

"They could see…" I continued "They could _feel_."

"You son of a-!" He exclaimed.

"Please Tony." I interrupted, "Don't make me laugh."

"It's not Tony." He replied, "Not anymore."

"Well then…My apologies, _Dante_."

"Why don't you play the stereotypical villain and tell me who you are and why you're doing this."

"I am simply someone long forgotten. And my objective is simple…Power."

"Power?" Tony chuckled, "Go throw yourself on an electric fence then, you'll find plenty of power there"

"Hiding your true emotions behind that indifferent attitude," I observed, "You still haven't changed, Dante."

"Well I don't give a damn about what you're _really _after." Dante drew Rebellion, "I'm going to make you pay for what you did."

"And what was that… Hmm?" I asked, "I did all this to gain the power I seek. So I had to kill some of your friends in the process...You don't seem to care."

"I won't let you get away with what you did to Jessica." His tone became more serious. I laughed again. It was all too perfect.

"Yes…_That_ one." I folded my arms in front of me. "Her despair fueled the growth of the Tree." I smiled. "Do you want to know _why_ she was despairing?"

"Do what you want," he glared at me, "You won't beat me this way." Noctis had tried to throw Dante off, too. Unfortunately he underestimated his opponent, and had a weakness of his own that was exploited. I had no weakness. But I wasn't trying to distract Dante for my own advantage.

"She felt hopeless." I said, "She told me all about it. She felt that she loved you. But she knew she was going to die. She couldn't imagine being without you."

"Is that the best you can do?" I could tell he was hiding his anger. He was trying to hide the fact that her death caused his blood to boil. He failed at hiding his need for vengeance.

"Perhaps steel can do better?" I asked him, suggesting we begin our battle.

"Alright then." He smirked as he drew Rebellion, "Let's go!"

Dante charged at me, thrusting Rebellion in front of him point first. I blocked with Yamato, still in its scabbard. Rebellion's tip slammed into the sheath, which held it there for a moment. Dante's speed had increased, and the strength of that blow was far greater than any he had used before. Perfect.

I unsheathed Yamato, pushing Rebellion aside with the scabbard. Yamato was but a blur as it emerged. I struck out at Dante's head, and he quickly blocked with Rebellion's cross-guards. Yamato bounced off, and Dante attempted to use that opening, sweeping Rebellion in a horizontal arc. I dropped to the floor, and kicked Dante's legs out from under him. Before Dante could fall to the ground, he bent backwards and landed on one hand. He instantly pushed off and propelled himself backwards and was once again on his feet.

He lunged forward, slashing upward with Rebellion. I sidestepped the attack and struck out at his unguarded abdomen. Yamato swept through him, blood splattered on the wall, and mixed with the blood of Dante's former friends. Dante took the hit well, recovering almost instantly.

Dante spun to his right and swung his mammoth sword at my back. Yamato was there to block it just inches away from my shoulder-blade. I pushed Rebellion aside, sweeping Yamato vertically over my head with my left hand, and my right elbow jabbed Dante square in the face. Dante jumped back to gain some space between us, and perhaps reanalyze his strategy.

A mere moment later, Dante jumped forward, sending a flurry of attacks with Rebellion. The sword cut through the air with incredible speed, each attack was aimed at me. Yet, despite Dante's amazing speed, I was faster. Yamato was but a blur in the air as I blocked each and every strike that Dante threw at me. Sparks flew, and the air around us seemed to move along with our demonic swords. It was like a brilliantly choreographed dance, or a staged battle for a play.

The climax of this play came in the form of another sword lock. Dante and I threw our swords together, testing the strength of demonic steel. Our blue eyes locked along with our swords. Both he and I were focused completely on the battle.

Dante's strength was impressive, but I was holding back. Dante kicked at me, using the same trick he had used last time we fought. I was ready for it, and blocked it with my leg. Dante used that distraction to his advantage, pushing Yamato aside and jabbing me in the stomach. We pushed off each other, and began the fight anew.

This time, it was my turn to go on the offensive. I struck fast and hard; Yamato sang as it hit Rebellion. Dante was overwhelmed, and had to step back to avoid the sheer volume of attacks. Many of those attacks managed to get by Rebellion and cut him. Quickly running out of room, Dante swiped Yamato to the side, and ran along the wall to avoid being cornered. I slashed at him as he jumped over the corner of the room, and he blocked it without missing a step. Finally, he pushed off the wall and set himself in the middle of the room.

Dante was holding his own in the fight, but he couldn't win. His coat was ragged at the edges where it had been nearly cut to pieces. I was untouched, and uninjured. Dante breathed heavily, and appeared exhausted. But I could see the look in his eyes. He wasn't about to give up.

_Maybe it's time…_

A question had been nagging at me for some time. What if Dante found out who I was? I imagined that he'd be quite shocked, and perhaps even relieved that I was alive. But knowing him, he'd still try to stop me from achieving my goal. Dante may not be extremely intelligent, but he was no fool. Yamato's powers are well known to him, as are the skills used to wield it. Slowly he'd start to put the pieces together, and figure things out. Surely he'd realize that the way we've fought is vaguely familiar. He would indeed realize who is behind the blue eyes that stared at him through those bandages. I needed to hinder that realization. If he knew who I was, it might cause some problems. To be honest, I had no idea what those problems might be. Perhaps I simply didn't want to bother with telling him just yet, or maybe I had some other reason held in the back of my mind. But unforeseen problems or no, I did not want to risk discovery at the moment. So I reached into my coat pocket and did something that "Vergil" would never do.

A loud boom echoed through Bobby's Cellar.

Dante stumbled back, barely catching himself with Rebellion, stabbing it into the floor. The ten foot distance between us seemed to spread out the buckshot, causing significantly less damage. I tricked myself over to him, pressing the shotgun I held right up against his chest.

I fired again.

The shot tore itself through Dante with such force it threw him back to the wall. Dante slid to the floor, leaving a trail of blood behind him on the cracked drywall. I calmly walked over to him. He was too exhausted to be able to recover so easily. But I could tell it would be only a few minutes before he would be back on his feet. I pressed my left foot against his shoulder and unloaded another shot into his stomach.

Smoke rose up out of the barrels of the gun, which I tossed aside in disgust. Dante winced in pain and coughed up blood.

"I'm sorry about that, but I needed your attention." I said to him, unable to completely disguise my disdain for the weapon. Though, he took it a different way.

"You mean…" He choked, "I was getting too close to beating you."

I smirked, and ignored that ridiculous accusation. I walked towards the center of the room, and pulled out a small bundle of cloth from my pocket.

"I want you to see something." I unwrapped the cloth, exposing a foot-long twig, dark and twisted.

"A stick?" Dante tried to get up, but his injuries prevented it.

"From the Tree of Death," I instructed him. I drew Yamato and cut into the tip of the branch. It started to slowly bleed, still pulsating with the life of the entire Tree itself.

"What is this?" Dante grunted, "Gardening 101?"

I ignored him, and bent over to draw the symbols and designs that had been on the old scroll. I looked down at my reference, which had the exact details drawn upon it. The circle contained many unrecognizable symbols, but each were drawn to exact specifications. I may not have known what they meant, but I knew what they would do.

Finally, the design was complete, and I stood up to examine it. Dante chuckled from his spot against the wall.

"Ok, Art class, then." He smiled, blood covering his teeth. He tried to lift Rebellion in his right hand, but he didn't have the strength to do so.

"Yes, Dante." I answered sarcastically, "Now watch and learn." As soon as I finished speaking, the symbol lit up with a dim red light. The light grew in intensity, until it was pure white. The light filled the room and was so intense that I had to shield my eyes.

Moments later, the light began to dim. I looked at the symbol, which now appeared to be glowing hot, as if it was melted steel. The air above it began to shimmer, and I could see a speck of light within it. The spot grew into a ball of dim, red light. The ball grew bigger and bigger, until it was nearly as tall as the room. A swirling vortex formed, framed by a red and misty glow. But within the portal was total and utter darkness.

My heart began to beat faster and faster. My body practically overflowed with adrenaline. I was almost there.

The smile slipped off of Dante's face. He really didn't understand exactly what lie before him, but he knew it could not be good.

It appeared that simply the presence of our amulets was enough to open this portal. They did not need to be joined, as they would need to be with other methods. I thought that fact was rather fortuitous since I didn't want to bother taking Dante's amulet…Yet.

Slowly, Bobby's Cellar began to transform. It was as if the world beyond the portal was slowly creeping out. Darkness and shadow emanated from the vortex, turning the wood floors of the bar into a twisted and rotted shape.

"This," I told Dante, "is the portal to the Demonic Realm."

"Your point?" Dante coughed again. Crimson blood poured down his chin. I turned to face him, my back to the portal.

"From here I shall enter and…" I caught myself. "You don't expect me to give away all my secrets, now do you?"

"I guess not," He spat, looking weaker than ever.

"Stay with me, Dante." I told him, "I don't want you to die before you see your world in ruins."

"You'd destroy this world just to grow stronger?" He asked me, incredulously.

"Your world is nothing to me. Its demise is merely an unfortunate side-effect." I didn't really know if I meant that, so I said: "I'll admit, part of me will regret it."

"Gimme a minute and I'll make _all_ of you regret it!"

"Well then it's a good thing I won't give you that minute." I drew Yamato, its sweet song filling the air. But as I drew it, something interesting came to mind. "However…"

I didn't know exactly how Dante would respond to a request for an alliance. I was fairly certain that he would reject it, but some part of me wished that Dante would accept. I figured that I'd at least try.

"You are the Son of Sparda, Dante." I continued, "But I know that you are not your father."

Dante looked up at me as I slowly approached him. He was confused, or perhaps he was trying to accept that he was probably going to die.

"No," I said, "Not your father at all."

Dante once again tried to lift Rebellion, but I stepped on his arm to prevent it from moving. I looked down into his eyes, hoping to read his emotions.

"I'll give you a chance, Dante. Join me, and I'll spare your life."

"What?" Dante was in total disbelief.

"Not something you hear frequently, is it?"

"Most demons I run into usually die before they get to this part."

"Well, then you are given a rare opportunity indeed." I said, "There is much we could learn from each other, I am certain."

"Like how to grow trees of the Apocalypse, or how to make a mummy costume?"

"No, Dante." I said to him, "Secrets of power."

"I always love a good secret." He replied with sarcasm. I smiled.

"Think about it, Dante." I said to him, furthering my argument. "Where would your poor mother be if you had been powerful enough to protect her?"

Dante's eyes widened in shock.

"How do you know about my mother?" He asked, growing paler than he already was.

"I know lots of things, Dante." I said to him, "The darkness itself feeds me its secrets."

Dante bowed his head, perhaps overcome by the memory of my mother's death.

"Think about it!" I told him, "With power, there is not only safety, there is respect! No one would _dare_ challenge you! _No one_ would even dare to threaten your loved ones!"

Dante was visibly struggling, clearly the idea had merit. After a moment, he sighed, relaxing the arm that I had pinned to the ground. He looked around at the changing room around him. Darkness and death visibly spread from the portal.

"So," I said deliberately, "What is your answer?"

He looked up at me slowly and coughed, blood dripping out of his mouth.

"Fuck…you."

I was not very surprised by this answer, but it made my blood boil. I felt like he was rejecting reality. He was denying all that I knew, all that I learned from my mother's death. He was denying my mother's memory!

"You're a fool!" I exclaimed. I reversed Yamato in my hand. "I guess I have no choice but to kill you."

My mind did not question what emotion had decided. I did not care that I'd be killing my own brother. At that moment, he was no longer my brother. He was a coward, and a fool. He deserved to die.

"Goodbye, Dante."

Time slowed as I plunged Yamato towards Dante's heart. The razor-sharp blade glinted red with the light of the gateway to the Demonic Realm. The tip of the blade pierced Dante's coat and vest, and just as I was expecting to feel Yamato tear through Dante's chest, something happened.

With a metallic clang, Yamato's path changed direction, and pierced Dante's shoulder instead of his heart. The blade tore through flesh and bone, the force of the redirection was nearly as powerful as the blow itself. Yamato emerged from Dante's body, leaving me off balance.

Dante took this opportunity to expend the last of his strength. He struck out with his right leg, kicking me in the back. I stumbled forward into the wall, freeing Dante's arm. Dante rolled away, drawing his large pistols. Kneeling on the ground, and crossing his guns, he took aim. I recovered and stood to face him.

"Do you think that those useless things will defeat me?" I laughed.

I could see something in his eyes that told me that he knew they wouldn't. But I saw something else. Within the barrels of the guns, I could see a faint light. The light grew more intense, and the air around his hands began to crackle with electricity.

I readied myself, certain that I could dodge or block his pathetic attack. But just as I thought he was about to fire upon me, he turned towards the portal.

_No!_

I tricked myself over to the portal, hoping to put myself in the path of the attack.

But I was too late.

The bullets sped out of the barrels of his guns, their power amplified by his own. I could see the demonic energy surrounding them as they tore through the blood-drawn symbol.

The bullets broke the seal along the outer ring. The white hot symbol, though appearing to be like steel, shattered like glass. It began to crack, and crumble. The portal above it began to quickly recede. The room around us grew brighter as the darkness retreated.

I jumped towards the closing portal, in an attempt to get through before it closed. But just as I thought I felt my hand enter, it closed. I slammed to the ground, landing a few yards behind where the portal once stood.

I growled with anger, directed not only at Dante, but at myself as well. How could I be so foolish?

I rose to my feet, clenching my fists. Rage clouded my thoughts, and yet again I was ready to kill him. I turned around to face him. He stood there, clutching the exposed amulet at his chest.

It was the amulet that saved his life. It was the amulet that blocked the attack that would have cut out his heart, and ended his life.

Before my eyes, I could see my mother's face, ashamed that I had tried to kill my own brother. It was as if she interceded, and saved him from my wrath. I was taken aback by this thought, and felt a surge of shame permeate my being.

The portal was gone, and the seal had been destroyed. The last remnants of the Tree of Death had bled out, and withered away.

I felt defeated, despite the fact that I could kill Dante right then and there.

But I didn't.

Instead, I spoke.

"Neither of us can claim victory today, Dante." I said, and began to smile. "But there's always tomorrow."

At that moment, I imagined finding another way into the Demon World. I don't know why, but somehow I knew it would happen. I _would _find another way. The thought filled me with confidence, and a dark joy flowed through my soul, overshadowing the shame I had felt before.

I laughed.

A laugh I couldn't even recognize. I startled myself, but did not attempt to fight it.

I tricked myself out of room, leaving Dante behind in Bobby's Cellar, my laughter echoing behind me.


	30. No Rest

I rushed through the city; the skies were just beginning to light up with the bluish tinge of early morning. The heavy chill in the air was gone, leaving behind only a slight breeze that cooled me as I bounded from rooftop to rooftop.

My thoughts weren't on defeat, but were instead full of optimism. Dante had succeeded in stopping me from entering the Demon World, but there were other ways. To be honest, my demonic army fell somewhat short of my expectations, and I had made a tactical blunder by not expecting a few events that proved to be devastating to my plan. Though the fact that Dante's amulet was so perfectly placed that it deflected my attack was almost impossible to predict. That was the first event, however, that led to my "defeat".

I didn't view it as a loss, though. I could have killed Dante right then and there. If I had, victory would have certainly been mine, regardless of the casualties on my side. Dante's only victory was that he destroyed the seal, and the portal itself, and it was a pyrrhic victory at that.

I arrived at the warehouse, which was as dark and dreary as ever. But my spirits were high, and my body was overflowing with the same sinister mirth I had felt before. It felt amazing.

I carefully removed my bandages, and retired to my quarters. I threw aside my bloodstained clothing, and washed out that which soaked through my bandages. The shower itself wasn't clean, but the water was clear and warm. Blood from the humans, demons and my half-demon brother all washed off the same, collecting in a diluted pool at my feet. I looked down to my amulet, which I never removed, even when bathing. Its red gem caught the light and sparkled brilliantly.

In that stone I saw my mother and my father staring back at me. I could see my mother's eyes, her expression saddened or regretful. Yet again, I felt a surge of shame flow through me.

But when I looked at my father, I saw the same look that I always remembered. No more, no less.

_My father_.

One thing Dante got right on that one night when my mother died…My father would have saved my mother. But he was dead. There was nothing he _could _do. Had he been alive…

I shook away the thought, but it nagged at me the rest of the night. Even my dreams were plagued by my father's memory. One in particular stood out.

I was in a grand hall, ornate and beautiful. The entire structure seemed to be made of white marble, which reflected the bright sunlight that gleamed from behind white columns to my right.

Yamato was nowhere to be found, neither were my bandages. I looked around, seeing nothing but the beautiful, but empty, room. Suddenly, as I finished turning completely around, my father stood before me.

He said nothing, but instead stared at me with that same look of his…He was dressed in purple clothing, of some aged style. A sword hung on his back, a skull on its pommel. The twisted hilt connected to the multi-angled cross-guards, and a large blade.

"What is that?" I asked him, breaking the silence. Sparda smiled warmly, reaching over his shoulder. He drew the sword, and stabbed it into the ground before him. His white gloves were unblemished as they left the spiraling hilt.

"My power." He said as he took a step back. "Right where I left it."

"Your power?" I asked, confused. "You mean your sword has your power?"

Sparda stared at me through his blue eyes, unmoving, yet not unresponsive.

"The Force Edge contains my power." He said, cryptically. "Seek it."

My heart leaped within my chest. My father was giving me his power! All I had to do was take it! I reached out my hand to grab the sword. But as I stretched out my hand, the sword began to move away. I took a step forward, hoping to catch it, but it would move further and further out of my reach.

I ran after it, desperately reaching for it. The world around me faded to black, and I was chasing the Force Edge through utter darkness.

"Pity." I heard my father's voice, echoing out of the blackness. "Are you not worthy?"

"Yes!" I called out to him, stopping immediately. "I am!"

"That must be proven, son."

"How?" I yelled. "Where can I find it?"

"Follow me." He said, "My steps will become yours."

"What?" I looked around for him, hoping to get some real answers. "What do you mean?"

"Follow me." I heard his voice echo around me.

"Vergil." A woman's voice whispered.

And I awoke.

I stood straight up in my bed, breathing heavily. I was coated in sweat, and my hair was matted. I clutched my amulet, trying to compose myself. After a minute, I calmed down and went back to sleep.

* * * *

The next morning, my optimism was replaced by introspection. I pondered the dream I had the night before. It seemed to vivid and so real. It stuck in my mind, and wouldn't go away. I kept telling myself that it was only a dream, but it seemed that my very soul couldn't believe it.

After hours of contemplation, I resolved to seek the truth of the matter. However, something told me that I could not find answers here in the city. I decided to call in another favor.

"Hello?" Cecil answered his phone groggily. "Who is this?"

"Hello Cecil," I said, using the phone in the guard's quarters.

"Gilver?" he asked incredulously, "What's going on? Are you still in Newport? I hear some hellish shit is happening over there."

"Yes, I am." I replied, "I wouldn't worry about me, if I were you."

"Yeah, I guess I shouldn't." he said, "Did you need something?"

"A small favor," I responded. "And I'll owe you another."

"What?" his voice went slightly shrill, "You helped me quite a bit, Gilver. You won't owe me anything."

I was tempted to accept this, but it wasn't part of our original deal. I wouldn't dishonor myself and my word by altering the original agreement.

"Don't you worry, Cecil" I said, "I'm fine with owing you one more."

"If you say so, Gilver" He said, "If I think of anything, I'll be sure to ask you."

"Good." I replied, "Now, I need your help finding some information."

"You bet. What do you need?"

"I need to know where the best place to find manuscripts and records of ancient legends. More specifically, items that mention the word "Sparda".

"Uh-huh…" He said in a low voice, as if he was writing it down. "Is that with a 'T'? Like 'Sparta'?"

"No, 'D'." I was patient with him. After all, he was going to help me significantly.

"Ok." He said, "I got it. I'll forward this to my info staff and I'll get back to you as soon as possible."

"Thank you." I hung up.

Now it was just a matter of waiting. I was impatient, however, and soon began to resume my training in the main part of the warehouse.

I began to explore different techniques with Yamato. Before, I could only send an impossibly sharp blade of energy flying towards a target. Such a technique was useful, but I couldn't believe that that was all Yamato could do.

I assumed a fighting stance, my knees bent and my hand on Yamato's hilt. I closed my eyes and focused. I blocked everything out around me, and listened. Everything was silent. There was no sound, not even of distant trains, people or cars.

Completely silent.

But then I heard something: a whisper, low and gentle. I strained to listen, but what it was saying was beyond my comprehension. I moved on, unable to glean anything from the voices.

Next, I tried establishing a link between myself and Yamato. I stretched my mind out, allowing my very soul to flow into Yamato. I reached out with my thoughts, hoping to tap into some hidden power. Oddly enough, I felt as if Yamato was reaching out to me in return. But something prevented the connection. It was as if a wall was placed between the two of us.

Frustrated, I opened my eyes and began to pace the floor. As I walked, I thought about what connected me with Yamato in the first place. My father had given Yamato to me, and instantly I felt some sort of link with it. My father said it became part of my very soul.

The connection was strengthened ever further on the night that my mother died. That demon plunged Yamato into my heart, and awakened the devil within me. Yamato was linked to my very blood.

But I felt something was missing. If my soul is connected to Yamato, how come I couldn't reach it a few moments ago? Perhaps I misinterpreted what my father said. Or perhaps it wasn't my soul that was reaching out to Yamato, but my mind, my very consciousness.

_That's it!_

Body, _mind_, and soul! _That_ was the missing piece. But the question remained…How do I establish the connection? I attempted to reach out to Yamato as I had before. But I failed again and again. No matter how hard I concentrated, I could not do it. I took a break and gathered my thoughts as I made myself something to eat.

_What can I do?_ I remember thinking to myself. Yamato was a powerful ally, not simply a sword. If I understood it more, I could unlock many secrets of its true potential. I thought about the whispers that I heard before. Could Yamato be trying to tell me something? I did not understand what it was saying.

I focused all my energy into solving this problem. I thought about all that I could gain from such knowledge of Yamato. It would be very important in my quest for power. After all, the stronger I am, the easier it is to overcome the obstacles between me and my father's power. If anything were to try to hinder me, my increased strength would prove useful. Even without triggering my transformation, which would amplify all of my abilities instantly…

_Wait_…

Triggering the devil within amplifies my strength, my speed and my overall power.

_Perhaps…_

I quickly ran out into the middle of the main room of the warehouse. Quickly, I triggered my transformation. The air crackled around me, and I instantly felt the power flowing through my body. I reached down with a clawed hand and gripped Yamato's hilt. I quieted myself yet again, closing my eyes and focusing my energy into listening.

I heard the whispering again. It steadily grew louder and louder until I could hear it clearly.

"Reach out now, Vergil." It said. "Reach out to me, Son of Sparda."

The voice startled me. My sword was speaking to me! A voice I had never heard before, and yet it was familiar. I couldn't assign any gender, age or particular quality to it.

Once again, my mind reached out to Yamato and I could feel it doing the same. I expected to once again hit the same wall that had been there before, but this time, it was gone. I felt the two of us connect, and instantly I felt a surge of force flow through my body. I felt my muscles and my very being began to change. Not like with my transformations, but instead a more subtle change. It was as if Yamato's very memory was embedded in my body. Just as repeated training will cause your muscles build a familiarity to the action, I felt as if my body gained the memory of Yamato's techniques.

The unfamiliar shift in my body caused my knees to give out from under me. I fell to the ground, catching myself with my hands. I felt the air rush out of my lungs, leaving me completely breathless. I gasped for air, unable to inhale at all. My vision started to blur, and everything went dark.

_No!_

I stood up, pushing away the weakness and the darkness. I refused to submit to it. I closed my eyes and took a deep and calm breath. When I opened my eyes, I could see. I looked down at Yamato, which was glowing blue. My whole body shined along with it, as I was still in my devil form.

We were one…

…In mind, soul and body.

I smiled.

I immediately unsheathed Yamato, slashing out with a blade of energy. I instantly tricked myself in front of it and slashed it aside. The attack careened off towards a wall. This time, I didn't move in front of it, but instead quickly assumed a battle stance, reaching out to Yamato. I felt our energies combine. I struck out with this force, which seemed to distort the air in front of me. A massive orb appeared near the wall, intercepting my initial attack. Just as the blade of energy entered the orb, I could see dozens of silver arcs within the orb. The blade was cut to pieces, and dissipated within this new attack.

I felt my devil form slip away. Yet, I could still feel my connection to Yamato, and it was as strong as it was before. Even then, the true potential of my demon blade was unknown to me.

I quieted myself, hoping to hear Yamato's voice again, but it was silent. I did not fear, however, as I sensed that when I needed them, new techniques would be revealed to me. My sword pulsated with its familiar energy, as if confirming this thought. I gripped the sheath gently in my left hand, more aware now of my faithful ally, and returned to my business.


	31. Hideki

My business at the moment consisted of much waiting. Cecil had some of the best, most reliable contacts around. But even they would have trouble finding information on Sparda.

I sometimes sat in front of the phone, eagerly waiting for it to ring. At one point, the phone rang in its shrill tone. I answered it eagerly, expecting Cecil, but was greeted with by a solicitor. Needless to say, I almost threw the phone against the wall. But I restrained myself, hung up and resumed waiting.

I was fast asleep one day, when the phone rang yet again. The high-pitched bell was more annoying than usual. I sleepily contemplated, yet again, throwing the phone against the wall, or perhaps slicing it in half with Yamato. But once I realized that this might be Cecil, I instantly roused myself and answered the phone.

"Hello?" I tried to remove the tiredness from my voice.

"Hey Gilver." Cecil's voice said to me, "I didn't wake you, did I?"

I had grown used to the mercenary clock, sleeping during the day, and being active at night. Cecil didn't follow such sleeping habits regularly.

"No." I lied. "Have you found anything?"

"I nearly whipped my people to death to find what you want. It wasn't easy."

"Which is why I still owe you." I reminded him.

"Whatever you say," He answered, "But I got a list of places that you might want to look at. You're gonna have to do some travelling I think."

"It doesn't matter to me."

"Well good!" He said, "I have a guy on his way over there to hand-deliver the information."

"Thank you very much, Cecil." I said, gratefully, "Keep in touch, and find me if you need anything."

"You got it." He said, then hung up.

* * * *

It wasn't a half-hour before Cecil's man came to give me a package. It was an envelope, perhaps big enough for a few files. I thanked him, and immediately went inside to examine the contents. I opened the manila envelope at the top and spilled its contents onto the table. As I suspected, three files fell out, each one with a decent amount of information and pictures inside.

I sifted through all of it, absorbing all that I had received. There were three locations, all in different areas of the world. One was a museum in Spain; another was a monastery somewhere in the mountains of Japan, and the final one being a library in an island-city off the coast of Italy.

I closely examined each location, already figuring out which one I'd visit first. Each file was very detailed, giving the exact location, information on the surrounding town, and, surprisingly, the exact nature of the references to Sparda.

The museum in Spain had few items of importance, and was therefore put low on my priority list. The library in Fortuna, the island city near Italy, had an impressive amount of references to Sparda. The file read that the island was populated mostly by a cult that seemed to worship him.

I cocked my head slightly, confused. I suppose it wasn't unheard of for humans to worship a demon like a god, but it was odd that they worshipped my father. The information about Sparda there is likely inaccurate. Already their perspective is not credible at all. They made a god out of my father, who was clearly not. I moved on to the next one.

The monastery in Japan interested me the most. The code of honor among those people was well known throughout the world. It was also very intriguing that I had never heard of my father going there. It was quite obvious that he traveled around Europe for some time, but I never knew he had journeyed so far east.

This location had an impressive amount of references to him. Books, scrolls, and other miscellaneous items were kept there. One in particular was of interest: a sword owned by Sparda himself.

It took me a moment to realize what I was looking at. This monastery had my father's sword! In my dream, he told me to seek out his sword and I would have possess his power! I dropped the file and immediately went about packing for the trip. I would have to leave most of my things behind, but it was worth it. I would have to book a flight myself, and it would be very long and perhaps uncomfortable since I would be getting a ticket at the last minute.

I soon lost myself in my thoughts, quickly deciding on what to bring and what to leave behind. I packed all of my clothes, which wasn't all that much. Perhaps I would have to buy more…I shook away the thought. Forgetting about shopping for clothes, I wrapped my bandages around my head and neck. I decided to keep up the disguise for as long as I could. I didn't want to reveal myself to anyone _just_ yet.

I grabbed Yamato and was immediately out the door. I had no time to waste. With Yamato in my left hand, and a leather suitcase in my right, I bounded across the rooftops of Newport, heading straight for the airport. I must have been incredibly excited, because before I knew it, I could see planes landing and taking off on the runway. In the bright midday sun, I could see the busy parking lot, and bustling crowds making their way to and from the building. Dropping down to street level, I hurried towards the airport itself.

The people were maddening! I pushed my way past the crowds and cars, eager to get inside. They kept bumping into me, staring, and refusing to move out of my way. I was tempted to trigger my transformation and send the crowd flying back, but that might attract unwanted attention. Likewise, carving my way through the crowd might prevent me from getting a plane.

I was just beginning to regret not asking for Cecil's assistance, when I found myself in a clearing, or as close to one as I could get. The people weren't crowded together in the wide and open space of the terminal. I quickly navigated my way through the building, looking for where people might be buying or picking up tickets. It wasn't long before I found myself in front of a counter, with a smiling woman behind it. I was beginning to have a headache, and I felt more exhausted that I had when I fought Dante, but I calmly bought a plane ticket to Japan. I was lucky, not many people were flying over to Japan, and there were plenty of tickets left, even in first class. I jumped at that chance, and bought one, throwing down a stack of cash.

The plane was boarding not long after, and before I knew it, I was sitting comfortably in a reclining seat in a spacious area of the plane. There would be a couple stops along the way, changing planes or refueling, but I was determined to endure it for the sake of my ambition.

About 20 hours or so later, the plane was above the Pacific Ocean, nearing the South-East coast of Japan. I was tired, and though the seats were very comfortable, I could not sleep. They had served food, which I ate gratefully. Other mundane details aside, it wasn't long before I found myself in the middle of a busy Japanese airport. Among the crowds of people, nearly everyone with some form of baggage, I saw something that surprised me. It was a man with a sign that read: "Gilver". I walked over to him, confident in that I'd be able to fight my way out of any trap, should it be one.

The man was clearly Japanese, dressed in a neat three-button suit and a matching tie. He had medium length black hair that was somewhat messy, and smiled at me as if he already knew me.

"Hello Gilver. Welcome to Tokyo." He said to me in perfect English as I approached. "Daniel sends his regards."

Daniel. I chuckled when I heard his name.

"He figured that you'd need the help." The man continued. "He saw that you were heading this way, and made a few calls."

I was tempted to refuse the man's service, but after I thought about it for a moment, I decided to accept his help. I would need a translator, as well as a guide to lead me to the monastery.

"Thank you." Was all I said.

"My name is Hideki, by the way." He told me, "If I may, I'd like to lead you to the car."

Hideki walked in a straight line, cutting a path through the crowd like he was a razor blade. The people seemed to step out of his way, almost unconsciously. He walked as if he were invincible. He wasn't a very tall man, but he definitely looked imposing and confident.

It wasn't long before we were outside. He led me to a black town car that was waxed to perfection. A driver awaited us and opened the car door after a low bow. Hideki ducked inside, and I followed.

The interior of the car was all soft leather, and was very comfortable. Hideki reached inside a compartment and pulled out a bottle and two small glasses.

"Bourbon?" He offered me the bottle, "Or perhaps you fancy yourself some vodka?"

I immediately remembered my last encounter with vodka, and politely declined both.

"I'm fascinated by all the various forms of alcohol," Hideki said, "Bourbon and vodka are among my favorites." He poured himself a shot of the bourbon. The car was moving, but it was moving so smoothly that the drink didn't even come close to spilling.

"I understand you are looking for some objects of…historical importance." Hideki changed the subject. "What are you hoping to find at the monastery?"

"I apologize, Hideki." I said as politely as I could. "But I must keep that information to myself."

"I understand completely." He said, "You never know who you can trust. I respect such caution."

"If I may ask," I said, "where are we going?"

"To my penthouse downtown." He answered, "You will stay there for the duration of your visit."

"What exactly did Daniel ask of you?"

"He asked that I provide you with a place to stay, food to eat and anything else you require."

I almost winced. I felt uncomfortable accepting so much help from people. Not without me working for it. Hideki seemed to sense what I was thinking.

"Rest assured, Daniel isn't going too far out of his way to do this for you." He said, "And neither am I."

"What do you mean?" I asked, puzzled.

"You remember that assassination job in Newport?" Hideki smiled, "I was in a real bind with the fools you took out. They were taking up all my clients, robbing my warehouses and the like. Daniel saved Cecil's ass by finding you, and you saved my ass by doing the job so well."

"You were one of the business partners Cecil mentioned?" I asked. Hideki nodded.

"And because of you, my profits have skyrocketed." He said with a smile. "Just think of this as a 'thank you' to you and Daniel."

Hideki's attitude was very calm and pleasant, but I could tell that he would not take no for an answer.

"I am honored to accept your thanks." I said to him. He gave a slight nod in response.

Hideki spent the rest of the drive asking questions about me. He sipped his bourbon and inquired about how I got my bandages, and why I carried a katana at my hip. He was especially interested in Yamato.

"A foreigner carrying a Japanese sword might cause some unrest among certain people here, Gilver." He told me, "Of course it doesn't bother me one bit. Otherwise I wouldn't be drinking _this_." He lifted his glass briefly. "I take pleasure in the sharing of cultures."

"It was an heirloom," I explained, "passed down from my father."

"Your father was Japanese?" he asked, "I can't tell through your bandages if you are of Japanese descent or not."

"No," I said, searching for an excuse. "He was European, I believe. He collected swords."

"Ah, I see," he said, "I'm a collector myself."

The car slowed to a stop.

"As you will soon see." He smiled coolly, opening up the door and motioning for me to follow him. We stepped out and I found myself looking out at the ocean.

"I must ask your pardon," Hideki said, "I forgot that I had a bit of business to attend to."

"It's no problem at all." I said. We walked along a concrete dock until we came to a large cargo ship. On the ship were many huge crates piled high. Hideki motioned to a few men who were waiting by the ship.

"Are they ready?" he asked, clearly eager. The man nodded and bowed. He took the others and opened up the crate, setting a ramp in place as well. He went inside and I could hear the sound of something being struck, or perhaps being opened or closed.

Then I heard the sound of a car starting. Headlights lit up from within the crate, and the man slowly drove the car out and onto the dock in front of us. The man exited the car and handed the keys to Hideki.

Hideki turned to me with an excited look and jingled the keys a bit. He immediately went to the car, and began to look it over carefully. It was black, with two gray stripes along the top of the car, and a single stripe along each side. That was all I could tell, as I was not knowledgeable when it came to cars, or any vehicle for that matter.

"Do you know what this is?" Hideki asked me. I shook my head. "This is a 1967 Shelby GT-500."

Hideki then continued to tell me almost every one of the car's specifications. I did not understand or remember any of it, but if a collector such as him was excited by it, then it must be good.

"Are the other's there, too?" Hideki asked the man from before. The man nodded silently. "Good. You know what to do. Come on, Gilver."

He opened up the car and sat in the driver's seat. I entered the vehicle, awkwardly holding Yamato next to me. He started the engine which roared to life. Hideki smiled at he revved the engine.

"_Now_ we go to the penthouse." He said, and drove off, leaving the sound of the tires screeching behind us.


	32. The Monastery

Soon after, we arrived at Hideki's penthouse, which was at the top of a large apartment building, or hotel. Hideki gave the keys to a valet and looked him in the eye.

"Be _careful_." He said.

The valet bowed low, and put on a pair of white gloves before he entered the car and drove off slowly. Hideki turned to me and motioned for me to follow.

"I have my own private garage here." He said, "So whenever I bring one of my cars, they're less likely to be dented or hit by some incompetent fool."

I nodded in understanding. We entered lobby of the building, which was vast and open. There were a few people working in the lobby, and others were just passing through. Hideki cut a path through the room, anyone who would have otherwise stepped in front of him immediately stopped or moved out of the way. We stepped into an elevator and went to the top floor. As the door opened upon reaching the upmost floor in the building, I was greeted with a dimly lit, but expansive room.

However, once Hideki flipped the light switch, I could see more than just a vast area of darkness. The room was richly furnished with a more modern theme. Black leather couches and chairs surrounded a glass coffee table. The floor itself was covered with smooth, white tiles. The walls were painted black, and adorned with various shelves full of classic car memorabilia. Hideki walked in and flipped on more lights, revealing more and more of the expansive penthouse suite.

"You'll be staying here," he said, "the bedroom is over there, and the bathroom is right next to it."

"There's a kitchen as well, but you won't need it." He continued, "Room service has been taken care of. Just call them when you want anything to eat."

Upon seeing the extravagance of the penthouse, and receiving such kindness, I was tempted to voice my discomfort. But the look on Hideki's face was resolved. I bowed slightly and thanked him politely. Hideki smiled and bowed slightly in return.

"I am afraid I have business to attend to tonight." Hideki said, "I must leave you now. I'll be back tomorrow morning to see that you get to the monastery and find what you need." At that he bowed again, and took his leave.

I was left alone in that immense area, wondering what I should do to occupy my time. I didn't bother unpacking, as I just tossed my bag onto the bed. I passed by the bathroom and stopped as I saw what was inside.

It was a large bathtub.

Set into the floor, the bathtub was the biggest I had ever seen. My skin crawled a bit as I thought of how filthy I must have been. I immediately put Yamato aside and took off my jacket. The next hour was devoted to cleansing myself in the immense tub, which I had filled with hot, soapy water. Steam rose constantly from the water, and I breathed it in deeply. I was excited about what the next day would bring me, and I needed to calm myself so I wouldn't make any rash decisions.

My relaxation ended when the water cooled beyond comfort. I got out and got dressed. I set out my dark blue coat, white pants, vest and shirt for the next day. I threw myself onto the bed, not caring how late or how early it was. I saw the lights of the city sparkling through the window. Slowly, the lights dimmed, and the world disappeared into darkness.

* * * *

I slept soundly until morning. No dreams plagued my sleep, and no sounds interrupted it. My mind awakened as the sun brightened up the room, and my body followed. I sat up in bed, sweeping my hair out of my eyes. I could see no clock to tell me what time it was, so I decided to get up in case I slept in.

_Wait…_

I woke up in the _morning_, not at night. I briefly laughed at myself for forgetting. Japan was on a different clock that I was used to. Back home, I would sleep all day and go about my business at night. Here, my internal clock nearly matched everyone else's.

I smiled to myself as I got dressed and pulled on my knee-high, black leather boots. They looked like old fashioned riding boots. I hadn't worn this particular set of clothing just yet. I went into the bathroom and examined myself in a large mirror that took up nearly all of one of the four walls. The dark blue coat was embroidered along the edges with an almost Victorian design. The silver thread made intricate patterns on the dark velour. The white vest was rather plain, save for the silver buttons that ran down the middle. The shirt underneath, as well as the pants, were also plain. They contrasted the rather elegant coat, and prevented the outfit from looking too formal.

Just as I finished looking myself over, I heard a ringing noise coming from the elevator door. I grabbed my bandages and quickly wrapped them around my face. I picked Yamato up and silently crept to the door. The door opened and I found a hotel employee looking at me with wide eyes. He looked me up and down. He nearly jumped at seeing my sword. He said something in Japanese, but I cocked my head slightly in confusion. He swallowed hard.

"R-Room service." He said. I nodded silently, and motioned for him to bring it in. He slowly and reluctantly wheeled a cart in and exited quickly. Ignoring him, I looked over the delicious-looking food that was delivered. Without hesitating much, I ravenously began to devour it. I was incredibly hungry, and hadn't had anything to eat since my flight.

When I was about halfway through my meal, the elevator door opened and Hideki appeared. He was dressed all in black, and wore a slight smirk on his face. He walked over to me and patted me on the back.

"Enjoying your food, my friend?" he asked me. I nodded in response, not wanting him to know that my mouth was full.

"Well eat up!" he continued, "We have a big day ahead of us!"

At that, he turned around and took a seat on the sofa in the living room. I resumed eating, though less enthusiastically than before. Hideki was looking over a small scrap of paper to fill the time.

Once I finished, he stood up and motioned for me to follow him. We made our way back down to the lobby, and out in front of the building. Hideki motioned to the one of the valets. Moments later, a vehicle pulled up, but it wasn't the one he had driven the night before. This one was bigger, and was obviously made to withstand harsher environments. The tires were large, and the doors were reinforced. I had seen one of these in the garage in Newport. Isaac and his partners possessed one of these.

Hideki climbed into the driver's seat, and I sat in the passenger side. The engine roared to life as Hideki turned the key, pleasure visible on his face. He pulled out of the lot and ventured through the crowded streets of the restless city.

"Looking forward to our visit to the monastery?" Hideki asked me after a few moments.

I was trying to suppress my excitement, but I couldn't keep myself from smiling as I nodded.

"We should be there in a few hours." He said, "The monastery is east of the city, in the woods closer to the mountain. The road should be clear, but it won't get us all the way over there."

I had read this in the file back in Newport. The monastery was hidden in the forest, safe from prying eyes. The monks there did not like visitors, and it was said that they were known to kill trespassers without a word. Apparently, there were many sword masters living there as well, filling their days with meditation and constant practice. Those who trespassed were usually cut down by these masters, sliced from shoulder to hip. I was unsure if these masters were actual samurai, or if they were something else. The file was thorough, but not totally complete.

Soon, the buildings and the people disappeared around us. Trees and clearings full of long, golden grass surrounded us. The asphalt road gradually turned to gravel, and finally to dirt. The vehicle we rode in continued on, unfazed by the change in terrain, which was likely why Hideki chose it.

The road continued on this way for what seemed like an eternity. I was deep in thought, wondering what was going to happen that day. Questions filled my mind, and I wanted to know if I was to inherit Sparda's power within the next few hours. Hideki saw that I was thinking, and did not interrupt my thoughts.

My meditation did not last forever, as only as couple hours later, the road vanished completely. Green grass surrounded us in what appeared to be the beginning or end of a long ravine. Hideki stopped the car and took out the key. He jumped out and retrieved a small pack from the back seat.

"It's on foot from here, my friend." He set off, confidently walking towards the ravine wall. He moved aside some fallen branches and revealed a muddy path leading into the forest. "Follow me."

Hideki led me along the various paths that snaked through the dark forest. Various shrubs and bushes lined the path, some were so tall and overgrown that they created an impenetrable barrier that prevented one from straying off the path. However, at some points it seemed there was no path at all. Hideki somehow always found it, though, and we pressed on for the better part of an hour.

Finally, we emerged from the woods and entered a clearing. The sun shined brightly upon us, blinding me until my eyes adjusted. The clearing before us was filled with that same ocean of golden grass. The long stalks waved in the cool breeze, and rippled all along the hills that dotted the area.

It was a peaceful scene, and it brought me some measure of pleasure. I could imagine myself living here, spending my days in quiet serenity. Perhaps someday I would rule from a place such as this. When my father's power is obtained, and I rule over all life in this world, and the other… _Perhaps I shall…_

"Look." Hideki said, interrupting my thoughts. He pointed across the clearing to what appeared to be an old, wooden building. I figured it must have been the monastery. The building was quite plain, but was part of a compound that appeared to be quite expansive.

I didn't bother to wait for Hideki to lead. This time, I started forward before he could, and walked at a brisk pace towards the monastery. Hideki followed, confident as ever. One might think that it was him who was still leading. Regardless, we made our way over to entrance to the monastery, which was a large, wooden double-door. Hideki moved forward and put his hand up to the door.

He knocked.

Once…

Twice…

Three times…

The wind picked up in the clearing, causing the rhythm of the flowing grass to change from a gentle sway, to a furious roll. The sound of footsteps behind the door was almost imperceptible to me. Soon, the door creaked open slowly. I peered inside, but saw no one near the door. Hideki did not bother to wait for anyone to show. He took the lead this time and entered. We found ourselves in a large hall, with vaulted ceilings and simple furniture.

We barely had time to examine our surroundings before we were surrounded.

The men around us did not draw the swords at their hips, but they stood around us, menacingly. Each man wore some sort of robe, varying in hue. They had their hair tied up in topknots, and wore a stony expression on their faces. While all their faces were in plain sight, one man wore a cloak that disguised his features. He stood behind the group, perhaps having some authority over them.

"Hideki." He said from beneath his hood.

"Hiroyuki." Hideki answered.

The man beneath the cloak raised his hood to reveal his face. He was a man of middle age, not young, yet not old. His black hair messily framed his dark eyes. He motioned to the other men, who stepped back and formed a line around the room.

Hiroyuki spoke, though in Japanese. I could not understand, but Hideki scoffed.

"Please," Hideki said, "You have a guest. It is not polite to hide our conversation from him in our own tongue."

"Perhaps you are right," Hiroyuki replied. "My apologies."

He bowed slightly to me, and looked me up and down.

"It is also impolite not to introduce yourself," Hiroyuki continued.

"This is-" Hideki started, but Hiroyuki raised his hand.

"Let him speak for himself." Hiroyuki's interruption seemed to anger Hideki, but he stayed silent.

"I am Gilver." I said with a slight bow. Hiroyuki nodded, and returned to speaking to Hideki.

"What is it that you want, Hideki?" He asked, obviously irritated that he was present. "Are you attempting to swindle us out of some money again?"

"We have discussed this before, my friend" He answered. "We cannot fight like this. I could have my men come in here and wipe out this entire village in one night."

"I am sure you'd try."

"No, I wouldn't." Hideki raised his voice. "It would only weaken both of us, and that would doom us whe-"

"We should not discuss this right now, Hideki."

Hideki stopped himself and realized that I was there. He bowed slightly in apology.

"What is it that you want?" Hiroyuki asked.

"Gilver here requests to study some artifacts that you possess."

"Does he?" Hiroyuki asked, almost sarcastically. "What artifacts might those be?"

I could not keep it hidden any longer, and Hideki could not answer for me. I stepped forward.

"I seek all that you have on the Dark Knight Sparda."

A collective gasp was unconsciously let out, and stifled almost instantly. The men around us could not but help to widen their eyes in shock. A couple reached down to their hips and gripped the hilts of their swords. Hideki himself nearly stepped back, caught off guard by my request. I knew not if it was because of my desire for Sparda's artifacts, or if it was because he wasn't aware that they existed in this place. Hiroyuki was quite angry, however, and drew himself up to appear imposing.

He began to angrily shout in Japanese, perhaps asking Hideki why he agreed to bring him here. Hideki replied in their language, the shock apparent in his voice. Hiroyuki shouted louder and then directed his attention to me.

"What is it that you want?" His face turning red. "What is behind your desire for these objects?"

I stood my ground, unafraid of this human.

"I seek Sparda's sword." I declared, "I seek his power."

A look of horror spread around the room. Hideki's eyes were wide, and each of the men around us was speaking rapidly in their language, some in shock, others in anger.

Forgetting himself, Hiroyuki yelled at me in Japanese. His eyes were fixed intently upon me, and he spoke words that I did not understand or suspect the meaning of.

Save for one word.

Yamato.

As soon as that word was uttered, he threw off his cloak and revealed a white-handled Katana resting at his hip.

It was identical to mine.


	33. Hiroyuki

_Impossible!_

My mind raced, filling with disbelief and anger. _This_ was the sword of Sparda's that they possessed? Not the Force Edge, but a _fake_ Yamato.

I had little time to think on the matter. Hiroyuki drew his sword in a flash, revealing the blade of the counterfeit Yamato. It was incredibly well done, and did not appear to differ at all from the original.

Hiroyuki yelled, and charged at me with his blade. He covered the distance between us with incredible speed for a human. He swung his blade at me, aiming for the right side of my neck.

As the blade was inches from my skin, a ringing sound echoed through the hall. The clatter of metal could be heard, and another gasp filled the room.

Hiroyuki looked down at his sword in horror. The blade was cut in half. With a yell of anguish, he dropped the remaining hilt of the sword, and turned to me with his eyes wide.

"H-How?" He asked, yelling.

With a grim look on my face, I slowly sheathed the real Yamato. He caught sight of my sword, with its hilt still covered in bandages.

"That is not that real Yamato." I said coldly. I slowly began to unwrap the bandages, revealing the white handle of my demon sword. "This is."

The room was silent.

Everyone in the room stared at Yamato, their mouths agape.

"Who…" Hiroyuki began, "Who are you?"

Not knowing why I did it, I slowly began to unravel the bandages that were wrapped around my head. Gradually, I revealed my silver-white hair, and finally my entire face. I swept my hair back with one hand, and looked up at the men around me.

Just when I thought that these men could not look more shocked, I was proven wrong. The look on their faces was indescribably surprised. Blood drained from their faces, and one by one, they prostrated themselves before me. Even Hiroyuki himself walked towards me, and slowly kissed the floor before my feet.

This caught me off guard, but I stood my ground confidently. After all, I would rule over every inhabitant of this world, including these men. Perhaps they _should_ worship me.

Hideki did not bow, or kneel before me. But he was still in awe. Clearly, he recognized me and my similarity to my father. I found it odd that these people could recognize me here, when people everywhere else would not even know. I wore my bandages to retain my anonymity in the city, and to conceal my whereabouts from Nox and Dies. But I did not expect anyone to recognize me _anywhere_, let alone here.

The men slowly rose and approached me.

"Sparda." They said. Each of them murmured some sentiment or another. I could hear them say "We thought you were dead, Sparda".

"No, Sparda wouldn't die." Another corrected, "You know how this works."

At last, I understood. They did not know that I was Sparda's son, but instead mistook me for the Dark Knight himself. However, Hiroyuki approached and calmed the other men.

"This man is not Sparda." He said, "Some of you are old enough to know better. This man is too young."

The men looked at me in disbelief, but they were confused. They did not suspect treachery, but instead began to murmur amongst themselves, claiming that Hiroyuki was wrong.

"What is your name?" Hiroyuki asked. I looked at him intently, and answered.

"My name is Vergil." The men around me looked at each other, confused. "And I am Sparda's son."

Smiles brightened the faces of those around me, while Hiroyuki retained his emotionless stare. The other men began to speak again, excited and proud, like they were speaking to the son of an old friend. Indeed, some of the men may have been old enough to have known Sparda at some point or another, but there were others who looked barely older than I was.

"I suppose you would still like to see what we have," Hiroyuki said, "regarding your father."

I glared at him, reminded that he had been in possession of a fake Yamato. The other men, seeing my expression, stepped back and reformed their lines at the edge of the room.

"Where did you get that sword?" I asked him.

"We recovered it" He answered, calmly "from the ruins of an ancient temple, where it had been laying dormant for millennia."

My eyes narrowed. I tricked myself forward and drew Yamato faster than I had ever drawn it before. I immediately pressed the blade against his neck, and very nearly cut his jugular vein. Amazingly, he kept himself from flinching, for fear that he would die if he moved.

"You lie." I said to him, my blue eyes staring into his. His eyes shifted briefly, which gave it away. He began to sweat, and his chin began to tremble.

"A man brought it to me." He exhaled cautiously. "Nearly three years ago."

"What was his name?"

"I don't know." He whimpered, "but he asked for no money, so I thought that it wouldn't hurt to take it."

I remained motionless for a few moments, deciding if I should believe him or not. At last, I pulled Yamato away and sheathed it. Hiroyuki collapsed to the floor in shock. The others did not try to help him, much to my satisfaction. They knew as well as I did, that you should authenticate an item before you accept it as being genuine.

Hideki approached me. For the first time, his walk was not confident at all. He placed his hand on my shoulder and gave a respectful nod. Then he silently turned around, and walked away. I did not understand his reaction, but I was certain that I'd find out sooner or later.

However, I had more pressing matters to attend to. Hiroyuki, still shaking, stood before me and bowed low.

"I apologize," He said, "humbly and sincerely, Son of Sparda."

I did not hold much against him. He was a fool, but he could still be of use to me.

"Show me what you have," I demanded, "If anything you have is genuine."

Hiroyuki looked up and me quickly, then back down to the floor in shame. I guessed that he was now doubting if anything he had was real, or perhaps he was still ashamed of himself. I had always wondered why he did not end his life because of such shame. Perhaps he was a fool and a coward, too.

He stood up straight and led me to an adjoining building. Inside the room, in addition to old furniture, wardrobes and the like, was a thick and heavy iron door. It appeared to be some sort of makeshift vault that they used to store these items.

Hiroyuki removed something from his neck. It was a leather necklace, with an iron key attached to it. He inserted the key into a large padlock on the door. With a metallic clink, the padlock fell open. Hiroyuki opened the door slowly, its hinges creaking loudly as if the door hadn't been opened in many, many years. Opening the door as wide as it could go, Hiroyuki entered and motioned respectfully for me to follow.

The room, dusty and dark, was full of various antiquities and treasures. I walked about, examining the items as I passed. There were statues of ancient gods, and men. Scrolls, coins, and other artifacts littered the room. It looked like a museum. But I could not connect anything to my father.

"What is this?" I asked, on the verge of lashing out at Hiroyuki with Yamato.

"Many of these items were collected by your father." He answered, unaware of my rage, "He collected much during his lifetime."

That calmed me down a little. Sparda must have stored these here for safekeeping, or perhaps he gave them to his faithful friends.

"We here have also collected some items that directly pertained to him." Hiroyuki continued. "Sparda did not care for those, though. He was not a vain man."

He was not a man at all, but I understood what he meant. Much like Sparda did not like the portrait that hung in our home, he likely did not like statues dedicated to him. I saw one such statue, as well. It appeared to be a gentle-looking man. He was holding a down-turned sword, and wouldn't have looked out of the ordinary if it were for the large horns that curved down from his head.

I kept looking, and examining. I knew that it would only take one small item to make this journey worthwhile. But as I continued to search, I began to lose hope. No item was significant. No weapons here exuded demonic energy that would point to it being a useful weapon. All the swords and shields displayed were merely of human origin.

Finally, I completed my circuit around the room. I had found nothing.

"Damn." I muttered under my breath. Hiroyuki must have heard me, because he came over to me, bowing low.

"There is one item that might interest you." He said. "I have kept it safe in my own quarters, should anyone have attempted to steal our most valuable items."

I very nearly rolled my eyes. He had kept "Yamato" for himself, and now this item. Sparda may not have been vain, but this man surely was.

Hiroyuki led me out of the vault and through the entire complex. His room was in its own end of the building, and was indeed extensive. I guessed that perhaps his room used to be Sparda's, but he must have suspected what I was thinking.

"These were my father's quarters," he said. "before he died."

I silently watched him as he opened a large cabinet on the far wall.

"I remember when Sparda came here, long ago, and my father offered this room to him." Hiroyuki pulled out a chest, plated with dark steel, and set it on the floor. "Your father, however, refused. He instead took our smallest room by his own accord."

He unlocked the chest with the same iron key that hung around his neck. He opened the chest, and unfolded a rough cloth the lay inside. Slowly, he revealed a leather-bound book. He removed it, and reverently handed it to me. I took a hold of it and examined it. It did not appear to be any printed text, or ancient legend. It looked like a journal.

I carefully opened it, finding the pages to be yellowed, but still in good condition. The text that covered the pages was incredibly formal, and flowed gracefully from one line to the next. Nearly every page was covered in this flowing script.

I read the dates at the top corner of each page. The first entry dated nearly 30 years prior. The contents of that entry seemed to just come out of nowhere, perhaps implying that there were more journals in existence.

I thought about this for a moment. It made sense that Sparda would take to writing during his long life in the human realm. He wasn't a very vocal person, and thus perhaps let out his thoughts in his journals. I wondered where those journals might be, and if perhaps they disclosed the location of his sword.

I read through the first couple of entries, though I found nothing but a chronicle of the day's, week's, or month's events. Perhaps the journal was also used to keep track of things in case he forgot them. Routine thoughts did not interest me much, but it was worth reading. I closed the book and put it into my coat pocket.

"I am taking this with me." I said to Hiroyuki, my tone clearly conveying the fact that he shouldn't object. He nodded and put the empty chest back in its place. I left him there, and went out to find Hideki.

I found him sitting in a corner, deep in thought. He perked up as I approached, and stared at me in silence. After a moment, he spoke.

"You really are his son?" he asked me. I nodded in reply. He turned away and went back to thinking for another moment.

"Where is _he?_" he appeared to struggle to ask, as if he didn't want to know the answer.

"I don't know." I replied. "I believe he is dead."

"How is that possible?" he looked at me in disbelief. I did not know the answer.

"He was _here_." He continued, his tone growing melancholy. I nodded.

"It appears so."

"Its more than that, I am afraid." I cocked my head to the side, not understanding what he meant. He noticed and continued.

"I saw him when he was here last."

"When was that?"

"About six or seven years ago."

My eyes widened.

I could not help it. But this information surprised me. That would be around the time that he disappeared, around the time that my mother died. Hideki saw Sparda _here_, perhaps just before he died. I controlled myself, and tried to keep the shock out of my voice.

"What was he doing here?" I asked calmly.

"I am not sure." He replied, "I think Hiroyuki might know."

Again, I grew angry. Did that man ever tell the entire truth? He would say one thing, and leave out everything else.

_Damn him!_

I quickly turned around and searched for Hiroyuki. I found him looking over the remains of his shattered sword. He turned to me and gave a yell as I picked him straight up off the ground by the neck. I held him by the throat, his legs dangling a couple feet above the ground.

"Why didn't you tell me Sparda was here recently?"

"I-I..." he choked, "I thought you knew!"

"How could I have known?" I shouted. "He vanished and was never heard from again!"

I threw him across the room, careful not to kill him. After all, I needed the information he possessed. He slammed into a wall, and slid down to the floor. I tricked myself over to him and yanked him up off the ground and held his throat again.

"What was he doing here?" I asked…No, I demanded. I let my emotions get the best of me. I did not know why, but I grew more and more angry. Finally, I triggered my transformation.

My entire body changed instantly, my hands becoming claws that dug into Hiroyuki's flesh. My clothing came alive, becoming one with my body. My dark blue coat changed from its normal velour to dragon-like scales. It was almost like it was made of sapphires. The air around me crackled, charged with the energy that I was emitting from my body.

I did not bother to look at the rest of my body, as I was too angry, too focused on finding out what Hiroyuki was hiding. He was choking, however, unable to speak or breathe. I let him go, and he slumped to the floor, coughing.

"What was he doing here?" I asked, my voice warped due to my devil form.

"H-He…" Hiroyuki coughed. "He came here for something."

"What?" I grabbed Yamato's hilt. The sword was resting in its scabbard, which was now connected to my arm.

"I don't know!" he yelled hoarsely. "He took something from the vault!"

"Is that all you know?" I drew Yamato, "You will tell me everything you know. You will leave _nothing_ out."

"Yes!" he coughed again, "alright!"

I relaxed, and my devil form slipped away, dissipating in blue, almost-fiery mist. I calmly walked over to where he lay coughing. His neck was bleeding from where my claws had held him, and his wide eyes were bloodshot. At last he stopped coughing, and took a few deep, ragged breaths.

"Now," I said, "What happened?"


	34. A Tale Told

The sky was cloudy and dark, threatening to rain at any moment. Thunder rolled off in the distance, and a strong gust of wind blew through the golden fields outside the monastery. The grass rippled and shook. Trees seemed to bow to the roaring wind, clearly knowing who was the master and who was the slave.

Yet, in the midst of all the chaos and motion, there stood a stoic figure. Just outside of the tree line, a man stood tall in the face of the overwhelming storm. No matter how hard the wind blew, he would not bend to it. His coat flowed gracefully as he stood in observation of the scene around him.

Once he had taken it all in, the man walked calmly further into the clearing, his coat now trailing behind him. Confidently he walked, and soon approached the doors of the monastery itself. He knocked on the heavy wooden door, and waited silently.

The door soon creaked open, and he entered without waiting to see who answered. The hall of the monastery was filled with warriors and monks. They were all gathered there for some reason. One man appeared to be an authority, as he sat in a cushioned, but simple chair that was on an elevated portion of the hall. The other men were sitting on what appeared to be benches, some elevated above the rest so that those in the back could see above the heads of those before them.

The lone man slowly walked to the center of the room. Every eye tracked him and his movements, not with anger or suspicion, but with respect. Finally, the man stopped and stood before the man on the chair. He bowed slightly, but the man of authority shook his head.

"We bow to _you, _my friend." He said, "Not the other way around."

"Old habits, Hiroyuki." The man said, "I've never liked being bowed to."

"I apologize, but it will continue," Hiroyuki said, "Old habits, as you said."

The men around the room couldn't help but smile. This man was an old friend, and was quite worthy of their respect and admiration. Rising up from their seats, they bowed to him, and stood in awe before him. One might say they treated him like a god. But it was not like that. They treated him like a hero.

Hiroyuki stepped down from his elevated platform and approached the man. He bowed low, and greeted the man gaily.

"We heard you were coming," Hiroyuki said, "What is it that we can do for you?"

"It's been a while," The man remarked, his tone rather flat and somewhat emotionless. He somewhat ignored Hiroyuki's question. "I've longed to see this place again."

"Well here you are," Hiroyuki smiled, "shall I prepare your room?"

"No," the man answered quickly, "I'm not staying long."

"Oh?" Hiroyuki was puzzled, "Do you have…Business to attend to?"

"In a manner of speaking," the man answered, "Yes."

Hiroyuki nodded, apparently understanding what he meant.

"Should we fear the worst?" He asked the man.

"I'm not sure yet."

"Do you require something from us?"

"Only you." He looked around at the other men in the room. They heard this, and respectfully retreated from view and out of earshot.

Or so it seemed.

One young man stayed behind, hidden from view. He watched and listened intently as the man spoke to Hiroyuki. He had never seen this visitor before, but he heard much about him. His curiosity got the better of him, and so he decided to spy on the conversation.

"I need to retrieve something from the vault," the man said, "Its important."

"Surely there is nothing but what you collected in there." Hiroyuki said, "We have examined it all personally and have found nothing of extraordinary worth."

"Well…" Hiroyuki continued, "At least in terms of demonic power."

"Oh?" the man looked amused, "I suppose that's a good thing then."

Hiroyuki was confused, but didn't question the man. Instead, he showed him to the vault. He pulled out his key and unlocked it. The man entered in quickly, but asked that Hiroyuki remain outside. Hiroyuki bowed in response, and waited patiently.

From outside, he heard a slight thump, and the sound of something being moved, or scraped against the floor. Moments later, the sounds repeated, and the man emerged from the room. He quickly tucked something into the pocket of his ornate coat. Hiroyuki did not catch what it was that the man retrieved, but it was not a very large object.

The man's face looked paler, though. His eyes were suddenly….different. It was as if what he found did not please him. He looked worried, and Hiroyuki's mind raced. He wondered what could make this man so worried. This hero, who had done so much in his long life and had fought so much evil.

_What could it be?_

The man did not give him a chance to ask, though. He immediately made for the door, walking at a brisk pace. As if time was running out. Hiroyuki went after him; he had to know what was happening.

"Sparda!" he called out to the man.

Sparda stopped, the tails of his purple coat catching up with him. He turned to face Hiroyuki and looked him straight in the eyes. Sparda's bright, blue eyes were cold as ice. His gaze gave away his distress. His silver-white hair was slicked back neatly, but it may as well have been a mess, for his desperate emotions seemed to overcome his tidy appearance.

"What's wrong, my friend?" Hiroyuki asked with growing concern.

"Trust me," Sparda answered, turning away. "You don't want to know."

At that, he turned and walked to the door, opened it and stood in the doorway. He took one last look at the inside of the monastery, seeming to savor his surroundings.

"You can come out now," He called to someone else in the room. A moment passed, and a young man emerged from his hiding spot under a bench.

"Hideki!" Hiroyuki was surprised. "What are you doing?"

"Is this…Him?" young Hideki asked, "Sparda, is that you?"

Sparda gave him a brief, yet emotionless smile. And turned to leave.

"Wait!" Hideki called out to him. Sparda looked at him; again his gaze was ice cold. "Will we ever see you again?"

Sparda stared for a moment, his jaw clenching slightly. He turned and exited the monastery without another word.

I paced the room as Hiroyuki related the tale to me. I pondered the entire incident. Hideki could confirm that these events took place, so I did not worry about Hiroyuki lying to me, especially after I had made such and angry display before.

The mystery deepened, and left me wondering what Sparda was after. What did he retrieve from the vault? Where was it hidden? Those are the questions I had to answer first. So I made my way to the vault alone. Hiroyuki was eager to be away from me for the time being, and Hideki was thinking the situation over as well. Having been an admirer of Sparda's, he was greatly interested in figuring out what happened to him as well.

The vault was as we had left it earlier. Statues and antiquities filled the room. But instead of looking at the items, this time I examined the room itself. The floor was made of wood, and was rather dusty. It may not have been walked on since the day Sparda was here, aside from my previous visit of course. I could see my footprints in the dust, but not much more. I scanned the walls, which were reinforced with thick timbers. Nothing caught my eye.

_Damn! _I thought, _If only I could find some clue, perhaps I could figure out what the object was and where he went with it._

Hiroyuki said that he heard a thump, and the sound of something scraping against the floor. So I concentrated on the floor beneath the larger objects. There were larger statues, and shelves, but I could not tell if there was a hidden compartment in the floor beneath them. So I moved each object and examined the floor beneath it starting with the statues. The shelves were too much trouble to move, as they had many items on them. Sparda would have had to move all of them, or he would have made more noise than Hiroyuki had heard. It made sense that he moved only a statue.

I slid each one aside, only to find a normal wooden floor beneath them. No missing nails, no hidden compartments. Sparda was smarter than that. He wouldn't have put something in the floor…So why move the object?

Then it hit me. Perhaps he moved it because he had to in order to reach the compartment inside. Maybe there was a compartment in the item itself, on the base of the statue. One-by-one I tilted each statue over and examined the bottom. I found nothing but normal statues until I had eliminated all possibilities, save one.

A statue of the Goddess of Time stood on the far side of the room. It was the bronze form of a woman with a lion's head. She carried a giant hourglass above her head, and roared silently. It was an image frozen in time, ironically measuring time. The statue looked heavy, and there was barely enough room to tip it onto its side. But the shape of the statue made it rather easy to tip over. It did so, and lowered it down. It hit the floor with a gentle thud. I slowly pushed it away from the wall, an action that produced what must have been the same scraping sound Hiroyuki had heard.

I examined the base of the statue, and found a small, metal door.

It was locked.

_Damn!_

I thought about pulling the door open with brute strength, but there was nothing to grab on to. I tried using Yamato to pry it, or cut it open. But the metal door must have been made of demonic steel, or at least charged with some magical energy, it refused to open.

Finally, I grew impatient and just kicked the lock in frustration. It wasn't a particularly strong kick, but as I turned around to leave, I could hear a strange clicking sound and the door popped open. I turned back to the overturned statue and slowly approached it. I bent over to peer into the dark compartment.

There was a box inside, wooden and plain. It was polished to perfection, and appeared to be quite new. I carefully removed it from the statue and examined it closely. It was rather small, perhaps large enough to fit a large brooch, or a bracelet. I opened it up and a piece of paper fell out.

The paper drifted to the floor like a falling leaf. I picked it up and examined it with great interest. It did not appear too old, which perhaps pointed to the fact that Sparda left it there when he last visited this place. One side of the paper had been written on; a flowing script that briefly gave instructions to the reader.

"Do not come looking for me."

I read it again, trying to comprehend what Sparda meant. Who was this message for? Was it for me, or someone else he knew? I didn't know the answers to these questions, but I was determined to find out. I examined the inside of the box to see if there were more clues. The inside of the box was lined with black velvet, and was in near-perfect condition. Perhaps the original contents of the box were not in there that long.

There was something else inside the box, however. On the inside of the lid, there was a gold plate with an engraving. The letters were as flowing as my own father's handwriting. It was a simple, three letter word.

Eva.

I suddenly closed the box, blocking out the memory of my mother. But the questions still lingered in my mind. Was this message meant for her? Why would she go looking for him? What was going on?

I tucked the box away in my pocket, closed the metal door and returned the statue to its proper place. The statue seemed to glare at me as I replaced it, as if I had stolen its prized possession.

_Oh well…_

I exited the vault, and returned to Hideki and Hiroyuki, who had remained in the hall. Hiroyuki stood straight up out of his chair as I approached.

"Well?" He asked, "What did you find?"

I glared at him, my left hand fiddling with Yamato. He had caused me enough trouble already. I did not want to reveal any information to him, despite the fact that he could obviously keep a secret. Hideki, on the other hand, might merit some amount of trust.

But not too much.

"Hideki." I said without turning away from Hiroyuki.

"Yes?"

"We're leaving."

At that, I turned and walked out the door and left, my coat trailing behind me. Hideki must have been eager to leave, as he was right behind me as I walked through the field outside. I wanted to get far away from the monastery, and think over what I had discovered. I also wanted to get away from any spies that Hiroyuki might have around. Hideki was connected to the crime lords that I knew back home. He was likely just as careful as them. He might have a place that would be safe from eavesdroppers.

We both walked in silence, trudging through the field and soon the forest. We followed the same path we had traversed before, and arrived at Hideki's vehicle soon after that. I let myself into the car and immediately started to replace the bandages on my head. Hideki looked at me with curiosity as he entered.

"Who are you hiding from?" He asked me.

Hideki was smart, and I wouldn't disgrace myself by lying to him.

"That's none of your concern." I answered coldly. I was tired of listening to people tell me how I should be careful. I was tired of trying to justify my actions. Hideki was a good man; an honorable man. But he did not need to know anything about what happened.

However, I needed to know something.

"What did you know of my father?" I asked, "Why did he come here?"

Hideki appeared to have calmed down since the initial shock of discovering my identity. He nodded and related the tale.

"It is said that Sparda lived in the monastery centuries ago." He said, "He would come and go as he pleased, sometimes vanishing for a lifetime, only to return later. Hiroyuki's father was one of those that witnessed such a return. Sparda came early one morning, or Hiroyuki says" Hideki scoffed, obviously aware of Hiroyuki's flaws.

"Hiroyuki was but a boy at the time, and his father led the people here. Shinji was a good leader; honorable and honest. Everything that his son fails at being. Sparda was welcomed with open arms, and offered every honor and dignity that could be afforded. Sparda refused them all."

Hideki smiled, staring out the window for a moment before he turned to me with a chuckle.

"Reminds me of you." He said, "Or rather you remind me of him. I could see that you were uncomfortable with accepting my thanks. Sparda was never one to seek out recognition or reward. Ironically, that is part of what makes him legendary to us…to me."

"Anyways," He went on, "He came and went for decades after that, until he stopped for a short time before I was born. It was unfortunate timing, though…" Hideki's face turned grim. "Shinji died. There were rumors going around that Sparda was seen by his grave on evening. But no one knows for sure.

"Hiroyuki took over his father's seat, and led the people here with…imperfection. Sparda saw good in him, however, and apparently came to visit a final few times before I saw him that day that Hiroyuki described. I was too young to remember, but he tried setting Hiroyuki on the right path."

Hideki shook his head. "The first time I saw Sparda was also the last." He paused mournfully. "And it will remain so."

The man had a profound respect for my father, that was for certain. He also held and understandable degree of animosity towards Hiroyuki. He must have went off on his own because of him.

_Yet…_

I did not want to think too much about it then, but I was curious about what Hideki meant when he said that he should not quarrel with Hiroyuki, with deadly means at least. They seemed to have a weak alliance…perhaps held together only by the will to survive.

_But survive against what?_

The answer to that question intrigued me. But I had more pressing matters.

"Drive." I ignored Hideki's sorrow. His head snapped up, and for a second seemed to instinctively protest like a man who was never to be ordered to do anything. He stopped himself, remembering who he was talking to, and obeyed silently.


	35. The Key

Hideki drove me to the penthouse and left me there. He supposedly had business to attend to, but it seemed to me that it was something else. Perhaps he was still affected by what had occurred today.

The trip to the monastery took most of the day, including driving time. The sun was hanging low, and was slowly disappearing behind the buildings and mountains to the west. As night settled in, I made myself comfortable on the couch. I removed my coat and clicked on the nearby lamp. I reached over to the simple, leather-bound journal that lay on the table before me.

I held it carefully in my hands, looking over the cover again and again. The brown leather was worn around the edges, as if it had been handled quite often. There was no name, label, nor any type of insignia imprinted upon the cover. So I opened the journal, revealing the first page, and the oldest entry in this journal.

The flowing script was truly beautiful. Sparda's writing was nothing short of art, as would be expected from a man…or demon…that had been writing for centuries, if not millennia. The first entry was dated at just over 30 years ago, May 27th. Unfortunately, it was nothing more than a chronicle of his day-to-day affairs.

He spoke of traveling, and meeting new people. Apparently he had gone into business years prior, and decided to sell it so he could travel more. His business: buying, repairing, and selling classic muscle cars. I smiled, he and Hideki would have gotten along just fine.

I thumbed through the following pages, scanning every word, every letter. I spent hours reading through years of my father's life. Even in his daily pursuits, he was an honorable figure. He would mention his good deeds only briefly, and write them down as if they were nothing. When it came to the helpfulness and decency of others, _that_ was when he gave great detail, and praised the one responsible. A woman who fed a homeless man, one young boy protecting another from bullies…It seemed that Sparda saw goodness everywhere, as if perhaps he took joy in all that he had protected. Sparda was their savior, and though he would never admit it, they would all be dead if it were not for him.

Pity…There was so much evil in the world, too. So much that wasn't even worth saving.

I shook away the thought. I had to focus. Sparda was up to something when he was at the Monastery, and I had to find out what it was. But there was such a wealth of insight into my father's personality. So much that I never had the chance to learn about him. It was difficult to stay focused on my objective.

It became even more difficult once I got to a particular entry dated at 24 years ago, 6 years since Sparda had started this particular journal. The entry was as follows:

"I caught a glimpse of the sunrise today, and began marveling at its unusual beauty. It took me but a moment to realize that I wasn't looking at the sun coming up over the distant hills. Instead I was gazing upon a golden-haired woman, with beauty so radiant that I could not but mistake her for our fair, golden sun. For when she smiled, she lit up the countryside. Hers was the first human gaze that I felt unworthy of returning."

_Could it be?..._

The entry continued.

"Yet…As quickly as she appeared, she left, casting my world in an empty twilight. No words were exchanged, no pleasantries, not even a single touch of the hand. Nothing met but our eyes. I saw something in her icy-blue eyes…I saw a companion. I saw someone who I could understand and relate to.

In her eyes…I saw her soul. Her fiery spirit. Two millennia have passed…countless humans have withered and died around me. Not one of them possessed that same gaze that I saw today.

Not a single one."

The last stroke of the pen was dark, as if the pen had been pressed down hard on the paper. The ink smeared slightly in a few areas…as if the paper was made moist and then dried. Was Sparda crying? Did he really know that he'd be with my mother just from a single gaze? Was Sparda's power so great that he even knew destiny when he saw it?

So many questions…They made me want to ignore my previous mission and read on just to find out.

No.

I calmly set the book aside. I had to remain focused. I shook my head and cursed out loud. The problem was that I _had_ to read it. There might have been some key piece of information within those pages.

"Dammit" I cursed again and sighed. I picked up the journal and read further. The next few weeks were rather routine, and dull. Sparda's words were bland, and getting more and more vague. It was like he was detached from what was actually happening.

I couldn't help but smile slightly.

He was so focused on her, that his entries turned into a _depressed_ chronicle of day-to-day events. Instead of a spiritual or emotional release, his writing turned into a chore. Curious, since he had been writing for centuries, if not millennia. That much time would surely have tested his devotion to the practice. But it wasn't until now that his writing style changed.

I flipped the page, expecting to see the next day's events. But the next entry had skipped forward an entire week! Not only that, but its tone changed dramatically from the previous entries.

It read:

"I cannot take it any more. Ever since I saw her, I have been unable to sleep, unable to eat, and unable to think. I know I won't be able to rest until I find her. I will do everything I can to find her."

There the entry ended. I closed the journal and set it aside yet again. But this time, I was confused about how I felt. I pondered it for a moment…then realized what I was feeling.

I was…amused.

The Legendary Dark Knight Sparda, the most powerful demon that this world has ever known… was love-sick.

I laughed. A joy-filled laugh that had not a touch of darkness to it. Suddenly, I felt the urge to turn and show this to my brother, as if he were right next to me as he had always been when we were children. Of course he wasn't there, but that didn't ruin the moment for me. That entry had immediately put me into a good mood for some reason. I almost forgot about all the hardship I had endured before.

I was about to pick up the book again when I heard the elevator ding. I got up off the couch and grabbed Yamato. The precaution was for naught, as I saw Hideki stumble into the room. I was going to ask him the reason for his visit, but I stopped myself.

His face was covered in blood.

He looked at me, his eyes glazed over. He was a mess. His hair was matted with blood, and his clothing was tattered and torn. Oddly enough, it wasn't his normal attire, but instead something more resembling tactical police, or military gear. Regardless of the black color of his clothing, I could see the sheen of blood that had soaked through. His appearance reminded me of the humans that had been possessed by my shadowy minions in Newport. In other words, Hideki looked practically dead.

"Gil-….Verg-…" He quietly muttered before collapsing on the floor. I tricked over to him, and turned him over onto his back.

Suddenly, I felt a wave of energy pass through me. As if something was emanating from Hideki's inert body. I felt dizzy, and my vision blurred.

_What is going on?_

I shook my head and my vision cleared. The dizziness was gone and I no longer felt that strange energy. I couldn't spare any time to think about what had happened. Hideki was breathing, but I did not know how long he would last. I picked him up and looked toward the elevator.

_Too slow_…I thought to myself. _How did he even get through the lobby without being spotted by someone else who would help him?_

I shook my head and cursed out loud. Without a moment's hesitation, I leaped towards the window.

The glass shattered into thousands of tiny pieces, tearing at my coat. Shards of glass floated in the air as I fell. The sound of the air rushing past me filled my ears.

Luckily, I was falling toward another building. I blindly jumped through the window, so I was lucky that I hadn't fallen to the streets below. I landed heavily on the roof of the lower building, and almost stumbled. I was unused to carrying someone while moving this fast.

I stepped up onto the raised lip of the building's edge and propelled myself off with all my strength. Hideki was still useful to me, and I was no doctor. I had to get to a hospital _fast_.

As I soared through the air, Hideki stirred, opening his eyes slightly. He gave a weak start, when he saw the ground below us. He weakly muttered, however, and raised his arm to point. Confused, I looked at where he was pointing. It was just a normal looking building on an empty street. Perhaps it was a place he recognized?

Either way, it was all I had to go on. I tricked myself toward the building, covering the distance with two of the teleporting moves. I landed right in front of the building, creating a gust of wind that blew aside the discarded newspapers that were scattered about the sidewalk.

The street was abandoned…odd for this city. I rushed up to the door and pounded on it, hoping that the building itself wouldn't be as desolate as the streets around it.

A moment passed…I waited, and heard nothing. Impatient, I slammed my heel into the door. I might have been a little _too_ impatient, as the door was sent flying, and exploded into splinters as it collided with a nearby wall.

I quickly entered, and scanned the room inside for any clues as to why Hideki pointed to this building. It _seemed_ normal. There was nothing out of the ordinary. As far as I could tell, it was simply a temporarily empty office building.

_And yet_…

Something tickled the back of my mind. I reacted before I even realized what I had sensed. I quickly stepped to the side, and saw a metallic object fly by, right where my head had been. I threw Hideki over my left shoulder and tricked myself to where I had thought the glinting metal-object had come from. Without even thinking, I reached out into the shadows with my right hand and grasped something. I heard the sputtering choke of a human.

_Of course…_

Annoyed, I gripped the man's throat tighter and tossed him into the light. He tumbled to the floor, rolled, and pushed off the ground. He landed on his feet, ready to fight.

However, I lost interest in fighting as soon as I noticed the man's clothing. He was wearing the same tactical gear that Hideki was wearing, except with the addition of a black mask. The man reached over his shoulder and pulled out a sword. His blade was similar to mine, but was straighter and shorter as well. A Ninjato, if I recall its name correctly. He darted towards me, striking out with his weapon.

I grabbed the blade with my bare hand. I looked into the man's exposed eyes as I snapped his blade in half with a mere twist of my wrist. His eyes widened in complete shock. I did not want to waste any more time, however.

"Enough!" I yelled. I set Hideki onto the floor. "You know this man. Now bring me someone to treat his wounds!"

My assailant was yet again shocked. He said something in Japanese, clearly surprised. He turned quickly and darted out of the room, all the while calling loudly in his native tongue.

I knelt down and examined Hideki. He was in bad shape. His face was pale, and his clothes were now drenched with blood. He didn't have much time left. I immediately picked him up and took the same path the man had taken only seconds before. He was already on his way back, and motioned for me to follow him. He led me through a long, empty hallway. This area looked different than where we had been before. The lighting was cold, and the floors were concrete. It wasn't long before the man turned into a doorway, and disappeared from view. I followed and was greeted with several men of the same attire, and one other older man wearing surgical gloves and scrubs. The room appeared to be entirely medical in purpose. I set Hideki down on the operating table nearby. The men appraised my appearance, and cautiously watched my every move.

Meanwhile, the older man, who I assumed was a doctor, began removing Hideki's clothing. Blood dripped onto the table, and the doctor began to give instructions to the others with an urgent tone. Men scrambled about, bringing bandages, medical instruments, needles, and other equipment. One opened a small refrigerator and took out three bags of what appeared to be blood.

The doctor finished removing Hideki's clothing, and I blinked when I saw the extent of his injuries. Gashes covered his body, ranging from superficial scratches to deep wounds. The slash-marks criss-crossed at many different angles…but some were parallel, like claw-marks.

_A demon did this, _I thought to myself.

One other thing caught my attention. Between the wounds, and beneath the blood, Hideki's skin had ornate tattoos in some places; at the shoulders, the lower back and on his chest. They appeared to be designs…or demonic seals on his skin.

The doctor began to bandage, and close up Hideki's wounds. Hideki fluttered in an out of consciousness. However, when the doctor began working on a deeper wound, Hideki woke up, and started to scream with pain. He tried to sit up, but the doctor pushed him down. The older man looked around for help and saw me. He spoke to me in Japanese, but I looked at him with confusion.

"Hold him down." He said to me in perfect English. I walked over to him and held Hideki down as he writhed in pain. "There is no time for anesthesia. He has lost too much blood."

"Will he live?" I asked, holding Hideki down at the shoulders. "I need him for something."

"He'll live." The doctor sighed. Luckily, his wounds were mostly superficial. No organs or arteries were damaged."

That was good news to me. But I sensed that the doctor had more to say.

"But?" I asked. The doctor continued to stitch up the wounds as he spoke.

"Well…" he started. "The wounds are _too_ far away from being mortal."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that I think that whoever did this had _intentionally_ avoided wounding him mortally."

I paused for a moment and thought that over. That didn't sound like a demon at all. Demons loved killing, and they were hardly ever perfect in their attacks. If there was perfection, it was in their ability to kill…not to avoid killing.

"As you can see," The doctor continued. "It was a demon who attacked Hideki. However, Hideki's policy has always been one of caution."

I wasn't quite understanding, but I kept listening. The doctor finished closing a wound, and began on another.

"Do you see these tattoos?" He pointed to the ones I had noticed earlier. "They are special seals that repel demons. The seals themselves have no power, but once they are imbued with a special…"he paused and searched for the word. "Magic? Enchantment? Is that the right word?" He looked to me and I nodded.

"I don't know much about it, but I know that it would take a powerful demon to withstand the spell."

He was silent after that, concentrating solely on healing Hideki's wounds. After each one was closed up, he sedated Hideki, set up and IV drip and checked on the blood transfusion. Satisfied that everything was in order, he removed his gloves and left the room.

I waited there. I didn't know for how long, but I waited. The doctor came back now and then to check on him, but no one said a word to me. I didn't care, all I wanted was to find out what Hideki had gotten himself into. I needed his help as a guide, and his extensive resources were still useful to me. This interruption was an annoyance, and I needed to get him back on track.

It must have been a few hours later when Hideki finally woke up. He groaned slightly, and turned to face me. The color in his skin had returned, and his eyes were more focused than before.

"Vergil?" He said weakly, "What happened?"

"You don't remember?" I asked. He shook his head. I briefly explained what had happened, and how I found this place. He listened in silence. A few minutes after I had finished, he spoke.

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For involving you in this."

"What are you talking about?" I asked. He sighed and shook his head.

"For a few months now…there has been more demonic activity in this region." He explained. "Usually, all that my job ever consists of is buying and selling…Drugs, cars, weapons, and the like.

"But lately I couldn't just stand by as those things swept through the city like a plague. I guess I lived in the monastery for too long to be able to just let it go. So I started commissioning my men to do some devil hunting. Of course, it was voluntary. But you know their type….crazy. Like me." He paused a moment and looked at his bandages.

"Their leader assumed that his minions' deaths were the work of the only well-known demon hunters in the area. Hiroyuki and his men."

I cocked my head to the side. I didn't know they were devil hunters. Or at least…it hadn't registered in my mind.

"So he sent warnings to the Monastery, threatening to destroy them if they continued. Hiroyuki was never one to tell a demon the truth. So he took full responsibility for the attacks. Of course, when he found out it was my doing, he was furious at me for putting his people in danger. I tried to convince him that I was doing the right thing. I tried to convince him that we needed to work together to defeat the demons and their master."

Hideki turned and stared off into space, deep in thought.

"He wouldn't listen. So I kept up the raids." He shook his head again. "But this time, it was different. They were ready for us. Or rather…_He_ was ready for us."

"Who?" I asked, curiously. Hideki looked at me.

"I don't know his name." Hideki said, "But when we got there…he looked just like a man. Until…"

Hideki was clearly traumatized by what had happened. Perhaps his injuries were more serious than I had thought.

"Until he changed. Like you did at the Monastery yesterday." He explained. "But he was…far more terrifying…He tore my men apart like they were nothing…He caught me as I tried to escape and said he'd leave me alive as long as I gave a message to Hiroyuki, and the rest of my men."

"Was it him?" I asked, "The demon who is behind all the activity here?"

Hideki nodded and continued.

"He said that he'll leave and never return… If we give him 'The Key'."

_Key?_ I blinked, _Does he mean…?_

"Key to what?" I asked, impatiently. Hideki frowned, as if trying to remember.

"He said…" He paused briefly, "'The Key to the Master's cage.'"


	36. Fated Love

Later that day, I sat alone in Hideki's penthouse and pondered recent events. I entrusted Hideki to the care of his men, and locked myself up in the penthouse all day. The lights were off, and the sun was just beginning to hide behind the mountains yet again. The room grew darker and darker with each passing moment. Yet, still I sat there, unmoving. I only cared for my thoughts. Nothing else mattered.

_The Key to the Master's cage…_

The words echoed in my mind. Did he mean the amulet?..Perhaps…In a way, the Amulet was indeed a key. Supposedly, the Amulet must be present for any gateway between the two worlds to be opened.

_Yet…How do demons get through?_

I had thought about this, and other questions, for hours on end. I could only surmise that lesser demons are somehow able to slip through the cracks, so to speak. As if the wall between the two worlds is only a screen, one that can hold back the greater, more powerful demons, but allow lesser ones to pass though. Perhaps any powerful demon on this side had been here since Sparda had sealed away the Demon Realm. Or were they all on this side since then?

Regardless, I now knew that whoever this demon was, he wanted the Amulets to release his master.

_No…_

_Not _his _master…but _The _Master_

I knew there was only one King of the Underworld. I knew that he was the one that Sparda sealed away 2000 years ago. I knew that he was the one that had sent demons to kill my mother and Elizabeth.

I knew the name.

Mundus.

I looked out a nearby window, just as the sun vanished behind the mountains. The sky above was still lit, but took on an orange hue. Slowly, but surely, the color deepened, and darkened. Soon the sky was entirely red, and for a brief second I felt a pang of unease. But as quickly as it came, it disappeared; as did the red sky, which began to fade to black.

Mundus was no threat to me. He was safely sealed away. However…He needed to remain so. At least until I claimed Sparda's power as my own. That was the problem. The demon was unknown to me, and I did not know the exact limits of its strength.

Something nagged at my mind…The fact that the demon took the form of a human. I wasn't sure how many demons were capable of doing such a thing, and I wasn't sure if that was a sign of strength, or not. After all, I have not seen any lower demons take a completely human appearance, or even any demons at all. I only knew of my father taking human form, but I had not heard of any others.

Until that day, that is.

Could it have been an illusion? Or perhaps it's not an uncommon quality after all? I wasn't sure, but I had to find out. I couldn't bother to be discovered, it would slow me down too much. I needed a way to end the situation, and do so before any more complications arose.

_But how?..._

The entire reason I came to Japan was to find out where my father's sword was. I remembered the dream I had in Newport, where my father told me to seek out the Force Edge, to seek out the power contained within it. But I had forgotten one critical piece of information. The man who found me in the library, the one with the thick cloak and the voice that I could not remember. He had told me that Sparda's power was contained in the Demon World. How could he have known such a thing? How could I have been foolish enough to forget? I was so caught up in finding the Force Edge, that I thought that the sword at the Monastery _had_ to be it. I was wrong, of course, and I was now caught up in the current situation. But I had gained Sparda's journal, as well as the box that I found within the statue of the Goddess of Time.

I reached over to the table and picked up the box. I opened it, and examined the ornate script that was engraved in the gold plate inside the lid. There was no other engraving, no other clue that I could use to figure out what was inside.

My only lead was the journal. I had to finish reading it, and figure out what he had put inside, and where he had gone next. Sparda had told me to take up the same path that he did. To literally follow in his footsteps. I needed to know what he wanted to me to find.

And so I put aside the matter of Hideki and the mysterious demon and simply read. I found where I had previously left off, and began.

"Its been two weeks, and I have found no one in town that knows her name, or where I can find her." Sparda wrote, his elegant style of narrative was almost gone entirely. "Surely someone in this damned town met her, and knows something of use! I will not rest until I find out if I am as crazy as I sound, or if this is for real."

The next entry made me laugh.

"Damn! I thought I saw her today! I saw a woman with the same shade of golden hair and made a fool of myself by chasing after her and breathlessly professing that I had been looking for her. The woman turned and revealed her face, which was not even close to being as beautiful as the one I was looking for, and promptly slapped _my_ face and ran away screaming for help! Thankfully, I was well-known in that part of town, and people understood."

The next break between entries was roughly around two months.

"I have given up. I have searched through the entire town. I have literally asked every citizen throughout the city if they knew of this woman, and if they perhaps knew where I could find her. I contacted every connection, acquaintance and even my self-proclaimed enemies. Not a single person knew.

I am lost.

I felt it…the pull of destiny..And now…I feel it no more. "

I frowned. I felt quite sorry for him for a moment, but realized that I was the product of his union with her. It _had_ to work out in the end. However, his usual method of writing resumed. He simply wrote down his daily affairs, devoid of emotion, and without any unusual patterns. He had started a new business in that town. Same as his old one. Day by day, it was all the same. He found one car to restore, bought and sold another. It was all business.

That is, until…

"It seems Fate hasn't abandoned me after all. I got another customer today. She was browsing the line-up I had out front. As usual, I leaned back, put my feet up on my desk and waited for the customer to come to me. She came inside, asked if there was a restroom to use.

For the first time, I actually looked at her face.

It was _her_.

I almost fell over in my chair. I steadied myself, and sat down properly in the chair. I told her where the restroom was, and began to sweat when she went inside. I panicked. I didn't know what to do. In all my years, I had never been in this situation. I had been offered so many daughters of chieftains, and lords. But I always turned them down. In the modern era, I started to have the women actually pursue ME! Times have changed, but I could never get used to that.

My palms began to sweat, and I felt short of breath. I felt that pull of destiny again. I took a deep breath and calmed myself. I had faced worse situations than that.

When she emerged from the restroom, I stood up from my chair. She thanked me, and asked if the Impala was used. I said yes, but mentioned that I did the engine work myself. I was about to offer to show her that it was in excellent condition, but oddly enough she said she'd take a look herself. I popped the hood for her, and she lifted it with surprising strength for one of her size. She propped it up, and took a look around. I watched her expression as she scanned the engine. Her lips moved slightly as she looked at each part one at a time, checking them off her mental list. Finally, she closed the hood, and nodded with satisfaction.

"Looks nice." She said, "You did the work yourself?"

"That's right." I replied. "It's a hobby of mine."

"No kidding?" She smiled, "Same here! I am fixing up a '57 Corvette."

I smiled back at her, and gazed into her icy-blue eyes. She looked back into mine. Her smile widened, and I felt my knees grow weak.

"You know," she said, "You're a lot younger than I thought you were."

"Oh really?" I chuckled. She nodded.

"Your hair," She said, gesturing to her own. "It looked gray, but now that I look at it, it seems more…Silver? White? Did you dye it? It can't be natural, you don't have a wrinkle on your face."

"Something like that." I smiled and shifted my feet anxiously.

"Well," She took a step forward, "I think I like it."

I swallowed, feeling more nervous than I had been in my entire life.

"I'm glad to hear that." I said, "Thank you."

"My name is Eva," she said.

"And my name is-" In that split second before I gave out my name, I decided that I was not going to lie to her. "Sparda"

"Sparda?" She asked in disbelief, "Is that a last name?"

"No…" I replied truthfully. Usually, I used Sparda as a last name, since it appeared rather normal. I often used "John" as a first.

"Oh, I am sorry." She blushed.

"No, don't be." I smiled to make her more comfortable. "It is a rather odd name. I am not offended."

For a moment, we just stared. And I felt that strange pull in my mind. It vanished as she brushed a stray strand of her own hair aside and reached into her purse.

"I am having a little…mechanical trouble with the Corvette." She said. "Can you come and take a look at it for me?" She wrote something down on a piece of paper, and handed it to me. "Tonight?"

I took it without thinking. Probably faster than I should have.

"It would be my pleasure." I replied.

Everything after that was a blur…She said something about the Impala, and thanked me and left. I sat down in my chair and relaxed.

That all happened about an hour ago. So I have not yet gone over to meet with her. She needs help with her car, and I'll be happy to do her the favor. I'll return tonight and maybe write another entry.

…Was she lying about the Corvette?"

"Of course she was!" I yelled to my father's journal. "How could he be so ignorant?"

_Wait_…

I stopped myself, realizing that I was behaving like a little girl reading a romance novel. I buried my face in my hands and shook my head.

_What have I become?_

I sighed, and resumed reading.

Sparda had kept his word, and had written something else that night.

"She _was_ lying!

She showed me to her garage, and there was a beautiful, red 1957 Corvette convertible. I checked the engine, and it was in good condition, aside from some worn spark plugs.

After I had checked it out and offered to bring some spare plugs, she invited me into her home for dinner.

Her late father had built her house, and she grew up there, and moved out when she was older, but moved back in when her mother suffered a heart attack. Her mother died a year after, her heart unable to last. She died peacefully in her sleep, and, as Eva put it, rejoined her husband who had died so many years ago. She had lived here alone for the last six months.

It was a lovely meal…I've always been partial to lamb. However…the meal didn't last long…

"So how long have you been living here?" she asked me, "In this town, I mean."

"Not too long," I replied, hiding the real reason why I set up another shop in this town. "But it is a nice area."

She nodded, smiling.

"I've been all over the country," she said, "mostly just to explore and see it all. I had been planning on seeing even more. But you are right…it _is_ a nice area. I might be…tempted...to stay."

I am not the master of double-talk…But I could catch that hint like she had come out and said it plain and simple.

She gave me a devilish smile, and I coughed, choking on the piece of meat I had been attempting to swallow.

"Oh my," She said, her voice full of mischief, "Are you alright? Would you like some water?"

"No thank you," I managed to get out, then recovered and cleared my throat. "Its ok."

"Are you sure?" She stood up and got me a glass of water, apparently not taking "no" for an answer. She approached me slowly and handed me the glass.

But she didn't sit back down.

I looked up at her as she stood over me.

"Do you feel that?" she said quietly.

I nodded, not knowing why.

"Its like I know you from somewhere…"She stared at me intently, "But I don't know where.

"I feel like I've known you for so long." She continued. "How do I know that you are a proud and strong man? How do I know that you've been searching for me for a long time?"

She leaned in slowly.

"How?" she asked as her lips pressed against mine in a soft kiss.

I knew the answer.

_It was Fate._


	37. Author

I set aside my father's journal and sighed. I felt the same emotions that I felt when I gazed upon my mother's picture with Dante…so many years ago.

I couldn't take much more of it.

I imagine that normally children would shy away from reading about their parents' love. That wasn't the case for me, however, perhaps because I had lost both of them.

The more I thought about it, the more I hurt inside, the more I missed my mother, and the more I wish my father would have stayed.

"Dammit!"

I slammed my fist on the table, attempting to banish the emotions. It seemed that my humanity was always the bane of my ambition. I wanted power, but my emotions always got in the way.

No…I was over-reacting. I took a deep breath and relaxed. I glanced at the clock. Midnight.

With nothing else to do, and no will to continue to read the journal, I simply got ready for bed.

I slept.

No dreams, no images of my dead mother. Nothing but a restful night's sleep.

"Vergil." I heard a voice call out to me. I slowly drifted towards consciousness, feeling my mind rejoin my body.

"Vergil." The voice called out again. It sounded like a woman. "Wake up."

I felt someone jab me in the side and I shot up out of bed and was ready to fight whoever or whatever had awoken me.

"Vergil." Hideki said again. "Good. You're awake."

"Hideki?" I asked, "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be resting?"

"Relax, I have a note from my doctor." He replied with dry sarcasm. "Hurry up and get ready. We have some work to do."

His tone wasn't commanding, but instead he sounded desperate. As if he had no time to waste.

I ignored his urgency and got dressed at my own pace. I donned my undamaged black coat and swept my hair back like I normally did. I left my bandages off. My skin had grown sickly pale from the lack of sun, and I figured the sunlight would do me some good. I grabbed Yamato and joined Hideki in the elevator.

As we descended through the building, Hideki fiddled with the bandages beneath his sleeves.

"Damn things itch. Now I know how you feel." He chuckled, "Well, I appreciate what you did for me, Vergil. You saved my life. I am in your debt yet again."

I nodded in reply. I had my own reasons for helping. Hideki would prove useful yet again.

"Where are we going?" I asked him as we neared the ground floor.

"Back to my headquarters." He answered "There have been….developments."

It was a short drive back to Hideki's headquarters, which was the same place he had pointed out when he was injured. We passed through the front rooms and into the concrete hallway. At the end of that corridor was a sturdy, steel-reinforced door. Hideki opened it and motioned for me to enter.

It was an office. Simple, and it adhered to the same style of his penthouse. Bright lights flared overhead at all angles. There was hardly a shadow in the room. Hideki follow me inside and took a seat behind a glass desk.

Even in the brightness that flooded the room, it took me a moment to realize that we were not alone. Standing in the corner of the room was Hiroyuki. He stepped forward, his white robe reflected the light from above and seemed to envelop him in a saintly luminescence.

_Right…_

He bowed to us, and took a seat in front of Hideki's desk. I sat in a chair beside him.

"Now that I have you both here," Hideki said as I sat down, "I'd like to make sure we understand each other.

"Hiroyuki," he continued, "Your monks have been in the business of slaying demons for generations. You do not need motivation to seek out and destroy an evil being such as the one I have encountered. That said, I greatly appreciate your help in this matter, and I sincerely apologize for putting your people at risk." Hiroyuki bowed his head slightly in acceptance.

"Vergil." Hideki turned to me. "You have done much already, and I wish I did not have to ask more of you."

I knew he was going to ask my help anyways. No matter. I planned on tracking down this demon anyway. He was asking for my amulet and was seemingly planning on releasing Mundus from his prison. There was no doubt that I'd have to find and kill him before he could do that.

"I'll take care of him myself." I stated.

The two men stared at me in surprise. That wasn't the first time I received looks like that.

"That's final." I stated adamantly. "Now is there anything else you can tell me about the demon?"

Hiroyuki coughed and pulled out a small book. The cover was yellowed and stained, perhaps by time or abuse.

"This is something I found in our library after Hideki described the demon to me." Hiroyuki explained, "It took me all night, but this is what I found."

He opened the book carefully, the pages were aged and worn. They looked like they were ready to turn to dust.

"This book was written 500 years ago," he continued, "And even this is not the original document. It was copied by a Franciscan friar, and came into my library when the missionaries visited Japan, and our monastery.

"The original document was supposedly a scroll that had been written almost two millennia ago, and had been collecting dust in a tomb near Jerusalem. That is, until the Siege of Jerusalem during the First Crusade. The scroll itself is said to have been made of human skin…"

"How is this relevant?" I asked, impatient.

"It is relevant because the author of the original scroll was the demon Hideki encountered just the other night."


	38. A Plan Begins

"It is relevant because the author of the original scroll was the demon Hideki encountered just the other night." He snapped. Hiroyuki's words caught me off guard.

_Why would a demon write like that?_ _Was it a journal like Sparda's?_

"The demon's name is Tityus." Hiroyuki explained. "From what I understand, he is a loyal servant of Mundus."

_ Loyal?_

Something felt odd about that word being used to describe a demon. A demon's nature is to surpass and conquer, not loyally serve.

"Does the book say anything of importance?" I asked.

"I'm not exactly sure." Hiroyuki replied. "Both the scroll and book were written in Latin. I could have it translated within a couple days."

"I could do it in one." Hideki spoke up. "Latin is a specialty of mine."

"Very well." I said before Hiroyuki could protest. "Hideki will translate this for us. I need to know everything I can about our enemy. Now leave"

That remark was directed at Hiroyuki. He stood suddenly, as if to assert his imagined authority over me. I looked him straight in the eye. Hiroyuki stared back for but a moment, then brought his eyes down in defeat.

"I'll let you know what I find." Hideki assured him. "Do not worry."

"I understand." Hiroyuki moved to the door. "I'll meet you both here tomorrow."

A moment after he left, Hideki got up from his chair, pacing as he examined the book.

"Wasn't that a little rude?" he asked me carefully. "He is our ally, after all."

"An ally is just an enemy that you have a use for." I said coldly. "Hiroyuki should realize that."

"Well, we must keep him informed regardless." He said, "and keep him willing to help us both. Let's not scare him off."

"Don't worry." I replied. "He will do whatever I say."

Hideki smiled, and nodded in understanding.

"Besides, I needed to talk to you in private."

"Oh?" Hideki set the book down and opened a nearby cupboard. Inside was a glass and a bottle of whiskey. "Would you like some?"

"No thank you."

Hideki shrugged and poured himself a glass.

"I need you to analyze something for me." I set down the box I had found in the statue at the Monastery. "I need you to tell me everything you can about this."

"What is it?" Hideki picked it up and opened it.

"A simple box, as far as I can tell." I replied. "But something was once held inside it. I must know what that was. And any other information you can find about it."

"'Eva'?" Hideki read, "Who is that?"

"That's none of your concern." My tone turned icy cold, "Focus on the box and its previous contents"

"Sure…" Hideki set the box aside. He began to shift in his seat, nervously.

"Something wrong?" I asked, sensing a question on his mind. Hideki gave me an uncomfortable look.

"That thing…Tityus was it?...What _do _you plan on doing about him?"

"His meddling is nothing more than an annoyance." I stated calmly, "I will dispatch him soon enough."

Something nagged at me when I said those words. I wasn't afraid of Tityus' power and strength. But I felt as though I was missing a crucial piece of the puzzle. Something wasn't right.

This demon took the form of a human, let Hideki live, and wanted the amulets to free Mundus from his prison. Loyalty, restraint, and humanity; all virtues unknown to the hosts of Hell.

"This feels wrong, doesn't it?" Hideki's words shook me from my thoughts. He examined my reaction and nodded. "You feel it too. That sense of dread."

"I feel as though there is more to this demon than we think." I said, "Perhaps I won't kill him after all. I must find out if there is something else going on."

"Maybe you could ask him what he's up to yourself," Hideki scoffed, "I'm sure the bastard would enjoy a good monologue."

"Oh I plan on asking him." I made my way to the door, "I'm going to capture him…

"And you're going to help."


	39. No Answers

While his research team was working on analyzing Sparda's box, Hideki and I were doing our own research on where to capture Tityus. And more importantly how.

"The strongest seal I have wasn't enough to repel this thing." Hideki explained as we walked down an empty hallway inside his headquarters, "There has to be another way."

"Perhaps multiple seals circled around him." I suggested, "Once he is within the circle, cast the spell and he won't be able to leave the circle."

"That's a risky move." Hideki pulled something out of his pocket. "If he broke out, we'd be sitting ducks. Or at least have no choice but to kill him."

"Do you have any better ideas?" I asked, "Where are we going?"

"To my vault." He twirled a key-ring on his finger, "Yes, I have a vault too."

"Naturally."

"I have some old texts, scrolls and whatnot." He explained, "I doubt we'll find anything new, but…"

We arrived at a large circular door, obviously the vault. Reinforced steel, and state of the art; no human could enter it. Not without the key. Odd, since a key could be stolen. Surely he had more security than that.

"Biometric scanners, security cameras," he explained, as if he knew what I was thinking. "and even some of my patented demon repellant keep this place secure."

He chuckled.

I did not.

He cleared his throat.

"Anyways," He continued, "Only a select few of us can enter. And no demon can at all…Or so I had thought."

"I'm sure Tityus won't want to steal a few scrolls," I said, "Considering he is likely older than most of them."

"Good point." Hideki stepped up to the wall next to the vault. He pressed a near-invisible button on the polished metal surface. Seams in the wall appeared out of nowhere, and a panel of buttons and screens were revealed behind the metal plates that slide aside.

Hideki placed his hand on a glass panel. A ghostly green line of light swiped up and down the glass, scanning his fingerprints. A line of four red lights appeared on the left edge of the panels. One light turned green after it finished scanning his hand, emitting a quiet beep.

Next, he peered into a cylindrical camera. Another light went green. A numbered keypad appeared on the glass that he had just used to scan his hand. Hideki turned to me and smiled.

"Its not that I don't trust you…" He smiled again. Vexed, I turned around and examined the plain concrete wall. "Ok I'm done!"

I turned back to see Hideki inserting his key into a small, simple-looking keyhole. With a hiss, the metal panel moved back into place, concealing the scanning equipment yet again. A loud clank came from behind the vault door, which soon slid open on silent hinges.

"After you," he said, motioning for me to enter. I stepped inside, and instantly felt that same wave of energy that had passed through me when I approached Hideki after his injuries. My vision blurred slightly, but after a few moments, it passed. I looked back at Hideki, who had a disappointed look on his face.

"Is something wrong?" I asked.

"I expected that repulsion seal to do a little more" He shrugged, "I guess it really doesn't work on incredibly powerful demons.

I took that as a compliment.

Those seals were fresh, however, and not already weakened by Tityus' attack like before. I could still feel them pulsating with some invisible force.

Hideki moved deeper into the vault, and examined the shelves of books that were there on the back wall. Beside them was a case full of scrolls, and beside that case were a couple of aged, stone tablets. Those caught my eye.

"What are these?" I asked, pointing to them.

"We're not exactly sure what they are." He walked over and picked one up to examine it. They weren't that large, no bigger than a decent-sized book, yet they were both almost triangular in shape. Starting off square at the bottom, then slimming down into a rounded peak at the top. They were covered in a spidery script, and were worn down in many places.

"We _are_ sure it is demonic in nature." He continued, "We actually picked them out of a nest of demons a while back." He paused for a moment. "Come to think of it…That was right at the start of this resurgence of demonic activity."

"You think these might have something to do with that?" He handed me the tablet, so I could look it over myself. I couldn't discern anything from it.

"It may be so," he replied, "but how does it connect?"

I didn't know.

We wasted hours in that vault, trying to search for some means of capturing Tityus, but to no avail. Likewise, any research into those strange tablets was wasted. As night fell, Hideki returned to his usual amusements, and I returned to the penthouse. Ever restless, I read through more of Sparda's journal, but yet again I gleaned nothing from it. I imagine life took a more interesting turn for him, as his entries were scattered at best.

Impatient, I tried to sleep, but could not. I was tossing and turning throughout the night, and when I _did_ sleep, my dreams were plagued with anxiety. It was as if my very subconscious was still trying to figure things out. Who was Tityus? What is he really after? How can I captured him, and where do those stone tablets fit in with all of this?

My dreams contained no answers.


	40. Tityus

Morning came early for me. I gave up on sleep after laying in bed awake for nearly an hour. Sunlight was only beginning to peek over the horizon, casting an orange hue upon the clouds. Feeling especially cautious, I donned my bandages and got dressed. I was eager to get the Tityus matter over with. I made myself the usual Spartan meal, tasteless yet filling, then made my way to Hideki's hideout.

To my surprise, Hideki was already there, sitting at his desk with Tityus' book in one hand, and scribbling in a notebook with the other.

"Good morning," he said to me, not looking up from his book. "Sleep well?"

"Not really." I replied. "How much longer before it's fully translated?"

"A couple hours maybe," Hideki said as he rubbed his temples. "This guy sure likes to chatter."

"What is he saying so far?"

"Well…" Hideki sat up straight in his chair, holding his translation in both hands.

...

The desert sand swirled around as a strong wind blew through the land. From his vantage point on a rocky cliff-side, a cloaked man could see that a sandstorm was approaching. Calmly, he took cover in the nearby cave he had called his home for the last month. The inside of the cave was simply furnished. A bedroll for him, as well as food and water for both him and his horse. Nothing but the basics. As he entered the cave, he unfastened a large cloth that was pinned up over the cave's entrance. The cloth unrolled and covered the mouth of the cave, shielding its inhabitants from the dusty sand.

The man sat down on his bedroll, his arms resting on his bent knees. He exhaled slowly, shaking involuntarily. It wasn't the storm outside that he feared, but the storm within himself. He was angry. No one was there to guide him, or give him orders.

The man was lost and alone.

Yet, this man was no man at all. Beneath his human appearance was his true form; his demon form. The form of Tityus.

It had been a matter of days since he had been cut off from his superiors. A cataclysmic battle had taken place. And the two worlds, human and demon, were separated. He knew what that meant: Sparda had succeeded.

Sparda, the traitor, sympathized with the human cause, and fought on their behalf. He fought against all the hordes of the Underworld. Including the King of the Hell himself.

Against all odds, Sparda had won.

At first, Tityus was elated. He wasn't the strongest of demons. He was but a mere captain in Mundus' army. He had longed to move up in the ranks, and wished that he were strong enough to challenge his superiors. It was all about power and status. The insatiable thirst that permeated his very soul. No demon was immune to it.

So when Sparda began his crusade, Tityus bided his time. Waited and watched. He could feel the human world being ripped apart from his own dimension. He could sense Sparda's overwhelming power as he defeated Mundus.

Tityus shuddered. It was all a mistake. He should have fought Sparda, too. What if his absence is what tipped the scales in Sparda's favor?

No…It can't be. Tityus wasn't nearly strong enough.

At least not yet…

Tityus had a rather unique ability. He could absorb the power of those he defeated. Unfortunately, he was rather weak to begin with. His station as captain was attained due to his strategic knowledge and cunning mind.

Yet at that moment it seemed his cunning mind got him into a less than ideal situation. What he needed to do was hide. Hide from Sparda's wrath. Sparda would have to know that by separating the two worlds, there would be some demons still stuck in the human world. He might hunt them down, one by one. Tityus needed to be cautious and careful.

He needed to wait for the opportune moment.

...

That's all I have for now, I am afraid," Hideki told me.

"It sounds like a journal." I said, "Much like Sparda's, which I have in my possession."

"Some parts are." Hideki scanned other pages, "Others seem like a catalog to describe other creatures. Demons, I think."

I examined the pages that he then showed to me. I couldn't read Latin, a couple of words seemed to stand out. It took me a moment to realize what they were.

Nox and Dies.

The two demons that attacked me and killed Elizabeth.

"There." I pointed to the paragraph. "What does that say?"

Hideki turned the book around towards himself and read silently.

"Nox is 'night', but I think it's a name the way it is written." He remarked, telling me what I already knew, "Dies is 'da-"

"I know that!" I snapped, "They are demons! Now translate!"

Hideki was visibly shocked by my irritation, but he kept reading silently. After a minute or so, he spoke.

"It seems to detail the relationship between the two twin demons and Tityus." He said, "He doesn't seem to like them very much."

"I bet."

"They are assassins that were trapped here 2000 years ago. He describes them as being very powerful, but also very elusive. They seem to have some ability he wants…"

That troubled me. I noticed no particularly special trait during our fight. Perhaps there is something else…unrelated to fighting?

"Ah," Hideki kept reading, "I think they are close to the demon king. And it says here Tityus suspected them of being able to actually HEAR the demon king's voice. No matter where they are."

"That would make them effective assassins, for sure." I remarked, "And Tityus might want that himself if he is so loyal."

"Here's the kicker, though" Hideki explained, "He lists other demons. He labels them as dead. And says he 'ate' their power."

"Well, now we know how he absorbs."

"I don't think you understand." Hideki's face grew serious. "He has been eating his own kind. Perhaps for thousands of years. If he can absorb their powers by eating them…"

His voice trailed off. But I knew the question on his mind.

_How strong has he become?_


	41. Another World

I reclined in a comfortable chair in Hideki's penthouse. The soft leather was so comfortable, I was nearly dozing off at some moments. I had been staring at the demonic tablet for hours now, hoping perhaps that something would reveal itself to me if I just waited long enough.

The aged stone was being stubborn, unfortunately. It refused to give up its secrets so easily. Like so many things lately, the tablets were full of mystery. It was but one of several puzzles filling my thoughts, and even my dreams. Tityus, Sparda's box, the tablets, and my original mission of attaining my father's power weighed heavily on my mind.

My eyes grew heavy and I was about to nod off.

_Perhaps I just need sleep. _

I felt my body relax, and my head fell back slowly into the soft leather chair.

I was asleep before my head even touched the chair.

Suddenly, I was floating.

Darkness surrounded me. It felt like it was nothing more than an emptiness, like a great hollow in the world.

"Hello?" I called out, not knowing why I did.

My voice echoed throughout the vast emptiness. No one answered. I tried to walk, but there was no ground to tread on.

"What's happening to me?" I asked aloud in a panic, "Where am I?"

"You are in the void between worlds." A voice spoke out from the black, its source was impossible to pinpoint. "What do you see?"

The voice surprised me, I could hardly reply.

"I see nothing." I replied, "Who are you?"

"That's none of your concern." The voice sounded like a male, "Do you see anything now?"

I shook my head, not seeing anything. But after a moment, a faint, white line appeared. The line twisted and turned, until its true shape was revealed.

A door.

"I see a door!"

"Good," the voice said, "Open it."

I floated toward that door, not knowing how I did it. When I reached it, I gripped the handle, but it was locked.

"I can't." I called out.

"You unlock this door with the key of imagination." He said.

"What's that mean?" I tried to imagine the door opening, and to my surprise, it unlocked and swung open.

"Beyond it is another dimension." The voice said as I passed through the door. I could see a window, but it shattered.

"A dimension of sound. "

A giant eyeball blinked at me.

"A dimension of sight."

A mathematical equation passed by.

"A dimension of mind."

Other objects passed by. My mind was a tangled mess, I couldn't comprehend what I was seeing.

"You're moving into a land of both shadow and substance, of things and ideas."

_What was happening_?

"You've just crossed over into... the Twilight Zone."

Everything went dark.

For a few moments, I couldn't sense the world around me.

But then…

Light.

I saw a man walking down the streets of a busy city, his dark coat trailing behind him. He seemed untidy, as if he'd been wearing the same clothes for a week. His dark hair was cut short, and he walked as if he owned not only the street, but the very air everyone was breathing.

Suddenly, everything changed around me. The world became brighter, and the people in the streets disappeared. The world came alive. The streets split open, buildings laughed with newly formed mouths. Creatures rose up from the ground, looking like diseased mannequins with giant rusty blades bolted to their bodies.

The dark haired man was the only human left on the streets. He hadn't disappeared with the rest of the crowds.

In the face of the threatening demons, however, this man laughed.

Suddenly, a giant sword appeared on his back. He drew it, springing forth and slashing at the nearest demon. He knocked the monster into the air, and while it was airborne, the man's sword changed form. It more closely resembled a steel whip, and he used it to grab and pull his enemy back towards him. He cut it cleanly down the middle. With a laugh, he ripped through the crowd of demons. More and more foes fell to his assault. Satisfied with his own prowess with a blade, he replaced his sword and grabbed two pistols, one black and the other silver.

"What?!" I witnessed all of this in some sort of disembodied state. I wasn't hindered by location.

"DAAAAANTE!" The demons cried.

"Heh," The man sneered, "You rang?"

At that, he let loose a flurry of bullets, which tore through the demons like they were made of wet paper.

"Too easy." He said. "Fuckers."

He holstered his guns and walked away.

_What is this?_

The scene around me changed, but not like before. It was as if I was skipping through time.

I saw a bald man in an ornate office. He was with a woman, standing behind her.

She moaned.

"Oh dear God," I said, closing my eyes, in whatever way I could.

"Oh Mundus." The woman moaned his name.

"What?!" I couldn't believe what I heard. Not only did she pronounce his name wrong, but he didn't seem to care. Also, how was I to believe that this mere man was the King of the Underworld himself?

The world changed again.

"We are Nephilim. The only ones that can slay the Demon King." a young man's voice proclaimed. I saw the man from before, the one who answered to the name "Dante". Beside him was another man, who looked very similar but had white hair instead of black.

This other man was dressed in elegant garb, and held a Katana at his side. He was wearing a fedora over his snow-white hair.

"Is that….Me?"

The world changed. Not just once, but many times. A montage of images and scenes. I saw my other self using a gun. This other Dante staring at a picture of an angel.

"Mom." He called her.

I saw the two twins fighting each other, with this other worldly version of myself proclaiming a need a rule over mankind for their protection.

"Dante" refused to go along with him.

I saw Yamato, it was changed. Dante's sword, Rebellion, was different. Sparda never died.

Eva…my mother. An angel?

Nephilim?

What is happening?

In what sick universe could this be a reality?

I awoke.

I sat straight up, drenched in sweat. I looked around me, checked Yamato, my clothes and my hair. It was all the way it should be.

"I hate fedoras…"

I stood up, needing to use the restroom.

I opened the door and saw a man standing before me.

He had long black hair and tattoos over his arms and shoulders.

He was wearing nothing but pants and suspenders.

"Hey bro!"

I awoke again.

I frantically looked around the room, expecting to see more insanity. But it was normal as could be.

My dream was accurate, I had to use the restroom.

I went in, careful to look inside before I entered in case that man was waiting for me again.

There was no one.

I quickly splashed my face with water and looked up in the mirror

My hair was black.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" I yelled in terror, awaking yet again on the soft leather chair.

I gasped for air, truly frightened by what I saw.

"Only a nightmare…" I shook myself awake. Making quite sure that I was indeed awake.

I avoided the bathroom this time and instead went to the bedroom. My empty bed awaited me. Perhaps some proper sleep would leave me with better dreams.

I laid down on the comfortable mattress, and closed my eyes.

"Goodnight honey." A voice said from beside me. I turned and saw Tameem Antoinades.

I screamed

And yelled

And told myself it wasn't real

But it was.

I couldn't wake up.

Dear God.

It was real.


End file.
